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burnyouwithacigarettelighter · 8 months

Note

I was wondering if you do fluff/sfw fics, I love your writings! If so I would request some domestic fluff with one of cillians characters, I'm a sucker for that cute cuddly shit. <3

VISIONS OF SUCH SWEET DAYS ─── neil lewis 𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “I hold you like the first time. I love your heart and all that you are. When I think of us it seems absurd to not believe in eternity.” — a letter to Albert Camus, María Casares.

pairing. neil lewis x reader

summary. domestic headcanons w/neil lewis!

warnings. tooth-rotting fluff, married life, domesticity, mutual pining, bestfriends-to-lovers

word count. 2.4k

a/n. ik this probably won’t get much attention cus theres no smut but this was sm fun to write!!! tysm anon & im so sorry requests are taking long to do😭schools taking precedent for me atm! also this wasn’t proofread i apologize😓 lastly, the title is from “apocalypse” by cigarettes after sex :)

P.S. THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR 2000 FOLLOWERS AHHHH I LOVE U GUYS SM!!!

Being in a relationship with Neil Lewis doesn’t change a thing at all. Your dynamic has stayed the same since you were just friends: you two were like an old married couple-- even before you did get married.

For years, it made Jonathan and Lucien wrinkle their noses, and you ponder about the matter often, how lovey-dovey you two had actually been without even realizing it…

🎬 you used to visit him at work with takeout after he complained about forgetting his lunch over the phone. he’d light up when you walked in, why’re you here?! on his tongue before you lifted up the plastic bag, and he’d smile that boyish smile of his, warm and appreciative and so neil, the same sweet neil you’d known since you were young.

“forget your lunch again, neil?” you’d grin. “i bet you could recite the seventh seal word by word but forget if you brushed your teeth this morning.” “you wound me!” he’d press a hand to his heart, theatrically pretending he’d gotten stabbed, “you don’t have to bet— i can recite the seventh seal word by word.”

🎬 when his washer broke, and he was too busy to get it fixed, you offered to wash his laundry for him. obviously, the thought of you handling his clothes — his intimates — had him mortified, so he suggested he just come over to yours and put a load in instead. still, the day dissolved into the two of you folding your laundry side by side, humming nostalgic tunes alongside your handheld radio.

“oh, god, change the station,” he’d groan, haphazardly tossing one of his newly rolled up tube socks into a plastic laundry bin. “hm? how come?” you questioned absently. “they’re playing that song, y’know— from homecoming?” “when that girl -- what was her name, again? -- dumped you?” “ugh, don’t remind me and please, just change it already!”

🎬 with adulthood came change, and honestly, the two of you didn’t get to see each other as often as you wanted, so neil proposed that you spend at least one night a week eating dinner together. once, you decided to cook instead of eating out, but neil got impatient. he wandered over to your figure in the kitchen, whining that he was about to keel over and die since you were taking so long. you rolled your eyes, but relented, holding up the wooden spoon and letting him taste-test, asking if it was too salty or too sweet. maybe it was because he was hungry, or your food was something so nostalgic and familiar to him, but he absolutely melted at the taste, singing praises the entire night.

🎬 sometimes you & neil’s movie-nights would drift off a little too late into the night, and the two of you would fall asleep on his couch together. you’d wake up, a strained, uncomfortable tangle of limbs and blankets, but you still felt right at home— snug against neil’s warm body, his familiar scent clinging to your skin.

🎬 since neil rarely got out of the house, you made it your mission to expose that man to the sunlight as much as possible; you didn't exactly want your bestfriend to get jaundice because he was binge-watching humphrey bogart's entire filmography for days in a row. you’d take him everywhere and anywhere: the two of you would go to the sunday farmers market downtown, looking at all the booths and tents laid out, buying fresh fruit and vegetables as opposed to, what you called, “overpriced, super-market big-box store garbage”, to which, neil would say, “is this a dig at me? because you know i’m terrible at grocery shopping, i cant help buying whatever’s easiest!”

🎬 other days, you’d walk in the park side by side, taking in the fresh air and throwing bread at ducks despite the DO NOT FEED THE DUCKS sign in bright yellow, snickering like school children.

“that one looks just like you,” you’d giggle, pointing at a particularly ugly looking one, flailing about in the water and splashing its siblings. “hardy-har, that’s very funny,” neil snorted, pushing you playfully. “jokes on you, it’s probably just like the ugly duckling.” “poor neil, is this your way of telling me you were switched at birth?”

🎬 sometimes, the two of you would sneak on top of your work building’s roof and, well, people-watch, picking a random person and dictating what you thought they were doing that day.

neil pointed at a lady wearing a furry wolf costume, and you filled in what you thought. “oh, oh, she’s going to her kids' birthday! the guy they hired to be a wolf didn’t show up, so mom decided to do it herself.” “good on her, but i don’t think it's her kids birthday she’s going to…” he trailed off, and you looked at him confused, before he gestured to the fur-suit-wearing woman entering a strip club. “huh,” you’d blink, “kinky.”

🎬 despite the confidence he projects at gumshoe video, considering he dresses up in some silly costume every week, the guy is absolutely terrified at booking his own appointments. it doesn't matter what it is, dental or medical or even a haircut, he stumbles and hangs up at the slightest rise of panic within him. its funny the first few times, but you could not deal with it anymore after he was sick with something he “didn’t know” because he was too nervous to call his doctor. you booked the first few, but then you taught him, shoving the phone in his hand and pantomiming what to do silently in front of him.

“uh, um, i’d like to book my - my-“ neil froze, mind going blank. you smacked your forehead lightly in exasperation, then pretended to inject yourself with a needle. “my, um, routine-- routine vaccinations!”

🎬 it took a few tries, but he finally got the hang of it— a big achievement on his part, but your number’s still hooked up to his dentist, so you have to remind him every time that he has to book his cleaning.

Nothing about your love has changed, not a single thing from back then, and honestly, maybe you loved him the whole time. Thought there certainly is a more romantic tone to your relationship now…

🎬 waking up next to neil might be one of the sweetest sights you’ve ever seen. usually, it’s him who wakes up first— he’s a light sleeper, while you sleep like the dead. your eyes flutter open, and there he is, piercing blue eyes drifting past your every feature. his gaze is tense and consuming but tender and loving all at once; you feel like he’s seeing through you, but it's in a good way-- you want to bare your heart on your sleeve for him because he does it for you. his hands are smooth on your side, holding you close, and he brings one up to cradle your face when he notices you’re awake.

“goodmorning,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “morning, you little creep,” you grin against his skin, “do you watch me every morning?” he rolled his eyes, “not every morning… i can’t when you go to work early, obviously.”

🎬 your wedding is the funniest thing you’re ever experienced. sure, most people want it to be beautiful and perfect, but you were content with anything— hell, neil could’ve married you with just his cardboard cutout of ingrid bergman as the sole witness and you’d still swoon. it’s funny because your families have this chemical energy about them when they’re together— they get along like a house on fire, and it’s just, seriously, seriously chaotic. all your friends being there doesn’t help either, especially when you were 99% sure your other best friend, violet, was pickpocketing the plus-ones you didn’t know.

“is that your aunt, or my cousin’s girlfriend?” neil asked in a whisper, taking a large bite of your red-velvet wedding cake. “i’m not sure…” you knit your brows, “but that is lucien asking for her number.”

🎬 you had gotten sick before with neil knowing before, obviously, but living with him while you’re sick means he makes it his personal mission to cater to your every need. he supplies you with dozens of pillows and blankets if you’re chilly, and will just as quickly fling them across the room if you break out a sweat. he’s by your side the whole time, even though you protest and fume that he’ll get sick too, but he says he doesn’t care, not when the love of his life is suffering. he’s so devoted to you, and it gets downright irritating at times like these, but you can’t deny how warm being showered in his love feels; being taken care of, doted on, his wide blue eyes peering into you for any sign of discomfort at all so he can quickly fix it.

just a single could i have some water? and neil’s hauling a thirty-six pack of plastic bottles into your bedroom. “just in case,” he pants, “dehydration’s a big problem when you’re sick, okay?!”

🎬 this man is a fiend!!! for spooning. little spoon or big spoon, he does not care okay maybe he likes being the little spoon a lil bit more he just adore having you near him. when he’s the big spoon, he pulls you real close, your face in the crook of his neck as he pets the back of your head gently, your arms wrapping around his waist. it’s the perfect angle because he gets to see your darling beautiful eyes looking up at him in the way you know he folds for every time. when he’s the little spoon, hes wastes no time in curling up against you, his head resting on your chest. theres just something so comforting about the position, be it your hands running through his brown locks, your legs hooked over his, or how his hands come up under your shirt and make you shiver, but you let it happen anyway, because you know how much he loves feeling your warmth under his fingertips.

🎬 neil is terrible, downright terrible at cooking… but he is a genius when the oven mitts come out! his silly little cinephile brain apparently made ample enough space for him to hone his baking skills, and when he’s not working or watching movies or cuddling with you, he’s in the kitchen, flour unknowingly on his face as he beats the living hell out of some poor egg whites.

“c’mere,” you usher him over, your eyes crinkling at his state: he was wearing a frilly hot-pink tartan apron with a heart-shaped chest — a gag gift you got him last christmas— while he piped chocolate ganache frosting on cupcakes. he drifted over to you absently, eyes still trained on the treats. they snapped straight over to you however, when you leaned in, presumably to give him a kiss, and instead darted your tongue out to lick the frosting on his cheek. “hey!” he gasped, face flushing as he scrambled to wipe away the saliva on his face. “you could’ve just said you wanted a taste.” “wouldn’t get such a cute reaction though, now would i?” you winked.

🎬 when a song comes on that doesn’t bubble up traumatic juvenile memories, you’re quick to clasp neil’s hand on your own, letting the music take you wherever, be it in your kitchen or at gumshoe video.

“dance with me,” you said, like it was a question, but already pulling neil up by the arm off your livingroom couch. your arms hooked around his neck as his hands rested softly on your waist, a familiar and comforting pressure on the flesh as you two swayed back and forth in tune to the music. “do we have a song?” you wondered, shifting your feet on the hardwood floor and looking up at him through your lashes. “the one from our wedding, probably,” he answered, “but this can be it if you want.” it’s some song you’ve never heard before, but its a good one, something you both like. “sure,” you murmur, turning to the side and resting your head on his chest as he pulled you close, swaying still. “i love you,” you said suddenly, and you heard neil let out a soft exhale of breath. “i love you, too. i think marrying you was the best thing i ever did.” “i think letting the weird new kid sit next to me at lunch was the best thing i ever did.”

All in all, married life with Neil is a dream, and entirely what you expected: you understand him like you do breathing. this love for him is innate, ingrained within you, and you know its the same for him— the love he’s shown you this whole time is the same pure thing, a tender and married adoration.

You know your husband so well you swear you could pick him out of a group by heartbeat alone; how it skips and stutters at the sound of your voice, how his heart pumps with a love only he can provide. There’s no-one else but Neil for you-- no one.

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #neil lewis x reader #watching the detectives #neil lewis headcanons #neil lewis fluff

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pixiemunsons · 2 years

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hiii what about steve harrington x reader where steve with all of the girls he slept before he can't manage to cum -like he only cums when he's alone and like it feels kinda humiliating to him to cum in front of someone bc he's really noisy and it's reader's first time and she manage to make him cum 👀

stop the world (i wanna get off with you) sh

stevie learns that sometimes, you just gotta let go (3.1k words)

anon i'm so sorry i missed the part where u said first time however it is their first time together. my first steve fic!! also don't usually write dom!reader so v new for me. thank u for requesting<3 this is set sort of between s2 and 3

light sub!steve/dom!reader, caretaking, handjobs, vulnerable/embarrassed steve, mentions of him sleeping w other girls but no jealousy, first orgasm w a partner, p in v sex, gentle sex, lots of sweet talking and reassurance, this is a very sweet little thing w very very little angst. no use of y/n or appearance description. no spoilers

‘sorry, can you say that again?’

steve blushed bright red, running a hand through his messy hair as you stared at him, wide mouthed.

‘baby, please, it’s so humiliating!’ he threw his head back into the pillow, hiding his hot face in his hands, and it took almost all of your strength to gently prise his fingers away from his eyes.

‘no, s’not. just wanna make sure i heard you properly.’

steve sighed deeply, looking at you tentatively.

‘no one else has ever been able to make me cum before, just myself. happy now?’

───

when king steve harrington had first asked you on a date, you thought he was joking. you’d barely ever spoken at school; helped him get through a bio test once when he was in junior year and you were a sophomore taking an advanced class, but outside of that, you’d barely interacted.

that is, until you had nipped over to jonathan byers’ house to drop him and his mother a tray of mac and cheese and ask how the search for will was going and had found him, nancy and steve beating the shit out of an alien.

it had all sort of snowballed from there, really. nancy and steve started dating again not long after the incident, before she bounced on over to byers, and while you were really happy for your friends, it had been you that was left to pick up the broken pieces of steve harrington’s heart. well, you and the ragtag bunch of thirteen-year-olds that you had sort of acquired over time. you learnt a lot about steve over the months you spent together; he was a serial dater, though they never seemed to go anywhere - despite the girls seemingly chasing him for weeks after he’d turned them down. he loved ice cream and cheesy rom-coms and the songs from west side story. steve harrington liked driving the kids around, even when he denied it, and listening to dustin talk about d&d, and so it turned out, he really, really liked you.

he’d asked you to go on three dates before you started to believe that he really wanted you like that, and even then he’d had to ask twice more before you agreed to go. you had heard he was a bit of a fuck ‘em and chuck ‘em kinda guy, and the dynamic you’d built up wasn’t something you were willing to ruin for a quick fumble; even if you had heard that said fumbles were nothing short of magnificent. he’d done things properly though; picked you up and opened the car door for you, told your mother he’d have you home on time, taken you to enzo’s, the nicest place in town. he’d made you laugh with his stories all night, ignoring the way other patrons looked at you, and when you reached for the cheque at the end of the night he had brushed you off as if you asking was an insult in and of itself. and then he’d taken you home fifteen minutes before curfew and asked you permission before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, driving away and leaving you leaning breathless against your front door.

being with steve was a lot different to how you expected it might be. it was just like before, really, doing everything together like best friends. but you caught the way he looked at you now, really looked at you like no one else did. saw how he took in every scar, every mark and cherished it, loved it as a part of you. and even though you hadn’t quite said those words yet, hadn’t quite taken it there, you knew it was true for both of you. there were other things about steve that you hadn’t expected, either; how his room was still the blue colour he’d painted it at twelve, how he could cook a really decent spaghetti. and how, five months into your relationship, he’d never taken it further than making out.

you hadn’t intended to get onto the conversation. you were just talking about how tommy and carol were hooking up again even after their latest break up, and steve had said he thought tommy was dating paula morgan from their graduating class, and about how steve’d gone on a date with her once and she’d left a hickey so big he had to tell his folks he got hit with a volleyball in gym. you knew there was a reason paula kept giving you the shit-eye when you went into the grocery store where she worked.

‘tellin’ you, i got off lucky! danny rogers, you know from the year above me? he told me once that she gave him a handy and twisted it so hard he was bruised for weeks! scared me off of her for life.’

you laughed, half thinking as he spoke. he had hooked up with loads of girls at school, you knew that, but the more you two spoke about your histories the more you were finding out; secret rendezvous' with girls under the bleachers, in the back of his car. he’d even confessed that he let sheila richards give him a blowjob in mr davies’ empty maths classroom. but it’d been months and the most the two of you had done was heavy petting over the clothes and making out before he’d push you gently away to get back to whatever movie you’d rented that weekend, even if you could feel how hard he was under his jeans. you hadn’t really meant to bring it up at that point, but surely it was better to tell him how you were feeling?

so you’d asked what was going on, and he’d stared at you for so long you thought you might burst into flames of embarrassment, desperately worried you’d said the wrong thing, when he came out with a whisper so tiny you almost didn’t hear it.

almost.

───

‘but-but what about all the other girls? you’ve been getting it left right and centre by every girl in your year, and i’ve certainly never heard any of them complaining.’

steve looked at you and drew a deep breath, shrugging his shoulders.

‘no, babe, they’ve been getting it from me. i mean, i’ve had a few… favours, but i’ve just never, like, finished. i find an excuse, like that i can hear someone coming or whatever, and then i go home and… sort myself out.’

‘so, you can come? just not when other people try?’

he nodded his head, seemingly more calm now that it was out there in the open.

‘is it a physical thing, you think? or a mental block?’

steve shrugged his shoulders again.

‘bit of both, maybe? i think part of it is that i’ve never been that bothered about cumming? i know it sounds silly, but i’m not usually in the sex for myself, and when you end up with a reputation like mine, you gotta find a way of keepin’ it up. so i just do what i need’a do to get her there, then deal with myself later.’ he felt silly now that he said it aloud, wringing his fingers in front of him. it had been part of the reason he’d never moved on you; he was too worried you’d think he didn’t find you attractive, didn’t want you, and the thought killed him.

‘you ever fucked someone you really care about, before, stevie? who really cares about you?’

he looked up at the change of tone in your voice, and saw that you were climbing up his body so your faces were level. he was going red again, gulping as you leaned down over him.

’n-no? never.’

you cocked your head to the side, frowning. ‘what about nance?’ steve shook his head solemnly.

‘no, w-we never… what are you doing, babe?’ he asked as you crawled onto his lap, thighs now either side of his hips.

‘stevie, i think the reason you were never bothered is because they weren’t. they just wanted to fuck the king, have a piece of him. but i don’t want the king.’ you laid a soft kiss on his lips, smiling as you pulled away and steve followed you for more. ‘i want steve harrington. and i wanna make him feel good. y’gonna let me do that?’ you were almost purring, playing with the hem of his t-shirt, and steve couldn’t even find the words to express how he felt other than god, baby, yes please.

you started by kissing him real, real slow. moved your lips over his languidly, tongue running gently over the seam of his lips in soft, caressing strokes that had his head spinning and his chin jutting forward for more. his mouth opened, and you slipped yourself in, running your tongue over his own. steve moaned gently into the kiss, grinding his hips up into yours, and you pushed them back down gently.

‘not yet, baby, tryna make this good for you. just calm down, take it slow. we got all the time in the world.’ he hummed against your mouth, settling his hips down while his hands explored your body slowly. you sat with him like this for a little while; one hand playing with his hair whilst the other sat on his stomach, pressing tender smooches to his lips, his nose, his cheeks, ears, forehead, eyes, until eventually you worked a trail of lip gloss down his neck. your teeth came out at the base of his throat, only gently, marking him inconspicuously as yours, and he almost whimpered under you.

it wasn’t often that you took your time with steve. it was hard to show your appreciation for him sexually when he was always resisting, refusing to let you in. so you were definitely having a lot of fun taking your time tonight. you stripped him of his t-shirt, straddling his hips and feeling his hard cock pressed against you through both of your jeans as you leant forward. your lips shifted from his neck to his chest, nipping at his collarbones as you moved down his stomach.

‘stevie, y’ so pretty,’ you whispered from his happy trail, nose nudging at the curls that lay there as he whined under you.

‘you’re so beautiful, babe, so gorgeous.’ his hand dropped from his chest to your face, stroking at your cheek gently with a thumb. you turned to kiss his fingertips gently, and he moaned when you took the very tip of his index finger into your mouth and sucked gently.

‘’m gonna get you all ready for me, stevie, use my hand and get you worked up, then i’m gonna get on top like you like it and make you feel good. no pressure, if y’can’t cum it’s all good, we’ll just try again when you’re ready. i jus’ want you to know you’re safe with me, nothin’ bad’s gonna happen, i’m gonna take good care of you, yeah?’ you were running your fingers over the top of his jeans, dipping into his boxers ever so gently, and he nodded, fingers grabbing for your t-shirt.

‘yeah, but can you take this off, too? please? don’t wanna be the only one sat here naked,’ he half-chuckled, half-moaned when you stripped the garment away, bra following so you were clad in your jeans alone.

‘can you go in the drawer, babe, get the lube please?’ you asked sweetly, and he passed it down with a kiss pressed to the top of your head. you manoeuvred your position so you were sat facing steve, his face level with your boobs as you straddled his thighs, giving you enough room to pull him out of his jeans and boxers. and, wow, was he hard. and big. his red tip was leaking, almost painful looking, and you pumped some of the lube into your right hand before rubbing it together in your palm, warming it up. he let out a hiss when you finally made contact, hips bucking up into your palm. you simply eased him back down again, pressing a kiss to the bicep of his right arm.

‘shh, baby, i said i got you. how do you usually like it?’

steve cocked his head to the side, blushing red. ‘what do you mean?’

‘you said you make yourself cum,’ you grabbed his hand, guiding it on top of yours. ‘so show me how you do that. maybe it’ll help you relax a little.’ he was nervous, you could tell, so you kissed him gently on the mouth, nodding gently to encourage him. slowly, his hand tightened your own around his cock, moving at a much slower pace than you anticipated he’d like. not that you minded; having him show you how intimately, gently, he liked to be touched was getting you wet, and it was taking a lot to keep your mind on the task quite literally at hand.

steve removed his hand once you seemed to be getting the hang of it, letting his head flop back against the pillows behind him.

‘o-oh, baby, just like that,’ he was writhing under you, leg bouncing up between your thighs in a way that made them clench. steve noticed, reaching out to touch you, but you carefully brushed his hand away.

‘not right now, stevie. we’re gonna think about you for now, we can worry about me later, ’s okay,’ you whispered up at him, flicking your thumb over the very head of him and watching as his head dropped back once more, eyes rolling into his head.

‘f-fuck, that’s so… fuck.’ he seemed to be relaxing, finally, letting you make him feel like he deserved for the first time.

‘you’re doin’ so good f’me, babe. such a good boy,’ you hummed, and steve’s fingers were white knuckled and wound into the bedsheets. he moaned, high-pitched and needy, and the sound went right between your legs.

‘’m gonna c-cum, babe, fuck, stop,’ he whimpered, and you cocked an eyebrow.

‘why stop? everything okay?’

‘wanna- fuck, wanna cum in you.’ his words sent a shiver down your spine, and you swallowed the moan making its way to the surface.

‘you sure? you won’t lose it if i stop now?’

steve shook his head vehemently, pushing your hand away from his leaking cock and reaching to undo your jeans, yanking them down to your knees. you leant forward to kiss him, gently pushing his arms back to his sides.

‘there’s no rush, steve, we can take our time. here, keep touching yourself f’me. there you go baby, just like that.’ you stripped yourself slowly, pushing your lace underwear down your hips and kicking them off with your jeans so you were bare in front of him. you’d usually be nervous, first time a boy saw you like that, but steve? he was something different. his hand was pumping up and down his cock just like he’d shown you he liked it, eyelids drooping as he revered your naked form above him.

‘want me on top? or d’you wanna do it?’

steve groaned again. he had no idea how he’d managed to swing you, but right now, he definitely wasn’t complaining. ‘can you do it, babe, please?’

his puppy dog eyes were so disarming, so loving, you couldn’t help but to lean forward and run a thumb over his lips, watching as he ran the very tip of his tongue over the pad of your digit.

‘i just want you to know that there’s no pressure, honey. if it doesn’t happen, we don’t force it, we try until you wanna stop and then we try another time, okay?’ the concern in your eyes had him almost in tears, so he just nodded as you lowered yourself onto him for the first time.

the sting was uncomfortable but not unwelcome, his thick cock stretching you out just enough for it to hurt whilst still feeling good. you moaned together when you finally had him all the way down to his thick base, buried so deep you could feel it everywhere.

‘’m not gonna last long, sweetheart,’ steve grunted, hips meeting yours mid-thrust and you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him, not when he was bumping up against a spot that had you seeing stars.

‘stevie, so good, so fuckin’ big and perfect for me,’ you were half-crying on his cock, trying to keep a rhythm going.

‘where d’you - fuck - want it? s’comin’ babe,’ steve was grunting through gritted teeth, and you just had time to cry out ‘stomach, shit’ when he was pulling out, head poking out from his hand as he fisted his cock, warm splashes of cum spurting out to paint your tummy.

‘oh baby, oh my love, fuck, so good!’ steve was almost shouting through his orgasm from under you, and he was the most beautiful person you’d ever met. head thrown back, hair messy, chest red and mouth forming an o as he rode his orgasm out in his hand. you were still hovering above him, up on your knees, when he covered his face with his hands once more.

‘stevie, what’s wrong?’ you asked, worried you’d taken it too far. he peeked out from between his fingers, eyeing you.

‘that was so loud, s'embarrassing,’ he whispered, and you pulled his hands from his face like you had not half an hour earlier.

‘you kidding? that was so hot!’

‘shut up, don’t be a dick.’

‘steve, i’m being serious!’ he peered over at you, intrigued, as you started ranting. ‘fuck, i can’t believe i’m the first person to see you like that! i mean, i’m glad i was, because holy shit, that was a religious fucking experience!’ the look of wonder on your face soon became something a little more teasing. ‘i can’t wait to make you do that again.’

it was your turn to be surprised when steve looped his arms around your thighs, yanking you forward so you were still on your knees, now situated with your pussy directly over his mouth. a smirk spread across steve’s face at the look of wonder on your own.

‘well, not right now, you won’t sweetheart.’

he pressed a trail of kisses down your right inner thigh, short nails scraping at the skin of your ass.

‘you’ve shown me what a good job you can do. now it’s time to show you what i’m famous for, baby.’

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hyperfixiation-station · 3 months

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Sorry, I meant Ghost in a fight/discussion with reader 😭 Still, I did love your take

CW: Fighting, emotional abuse, light swearing I am so sorry anon 😭😭 I am literally the dumbest person to have ever existed lmaooo Also apologies for length, I am moving and wanted to get you something cause I'm not sure when I'll be able to post again. To whoever asked, I am making a pt.2 so send me an ask if you want to be notified :)

As always, no beta, please lmk of any mistakes!!

A lot of ‘fights’ you guys have are one sided, where you concede quickly, not wanting to argue, and he just keeps going and going. He, like a lot of ND’s, gets a thrill from fighting, and he will pick fights about everything. You just disagree once with what he says and he goes off.

Fem!Reader: Anytime he is upset/angry with you/thinks you are disrespecting or ignoring him, he'll call you 'woman'.

"I'm still talking woman!" "Watch your mouth woman" "Woman I am talking!"

He does not love bomb. He does not come after arguing with you with flowers and chocolates and showering you with love to make up for it.

Don’t get me wrong, this man does bring you flowers, just not to make you feel better after a fight. He’ll get you flowers for valentines day and your birthday and your anniversary and any time he feels like you deserve flowers, but he does not give them to you after fights.

And you guys don’t fight too often. At least, not fights where he feels bad and has lingering guilt. Very rarely will he realize(or at least admit) That he was wrong, especially not in front of your kids, if you guys have them. However, if he does realize and admit he is wrong(typically after you sleep in a different room or don’t talk to him except for the bare minimum) he will apologize in private.

One very memorable fight for you was back in the early days of your relationship, just after you had started living together. He had left his gear just piled on the front table, and you had folded it and moved it to the bedroom so that it wasn’t cluttering up the front room. He came home and, well, freaked. He screamed at you, punched a hole through a door, and you still remember him telling you ‘Go to hell then woman” when you said you had just wanted the space to be clear.

He gets pissed off about the stupidest stuff. Your guy's 10-year-old daughter bought a Stanley? He’s mocking him for the next 3 weeks about wanting to be popular. Your teenage-daughter wears ripped jeans to a concert? He’s telling everyone about how she must have bought them at half-price since so much cloth is missing.

One interesting thing is that he respects fighting back, to an extent. You watched in borderline horror as your eldest got into a screaming match with him that lasted hours and ended with no victor. And yet, since that day, you’ve never seen Simon scream at them again.

Hearing this, he sounds toxic, yeah? And he is, to an extent. But you stay with him because he knows he has issues, and he actively works on bettering himself. You’ve been with him for a decade now, and you can see so many differences in the way that he acts. He no longer screams and throws things and punches holes in the walls. He is more willing to admit when he is wrong, hell, there's even been a few times when he’s said sorry in front of your kids.

You understand his trauma, you understand why he responds and acts the way he does, and most importantly He does too, and he is working on bettering himself for his family, because he loves you, and he hates that his explosive reactions hurt you and your kids.

I am going to make a pt. 2 to this so that I can go more in depth, but again, I’m moving and not sure when I will be able to post again so I wanted to at least give you something. lmk what ya'll think :)) ALSO: If you think I am mischaracterizing Ghost please let me know, and I will either explain my reasonings or you will change how I think of him. Either way, I would like to know yalls thoughts so please do not hesitate to say something

#ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #cod fanfic #no beta we die like men #cod #cod x reader #ghost fanfiction #angst #ghost headcanons #simon riley x reader #he has anger issues okay #sorry again lol

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chas3supremacist · 7 months

Text

big brother, best friend

pairing/s: Robert Chase x Sister!Reader (Platonic, obviously.)

summary: Robert Chase being the best big brother for 1800 words straight despite being through hell himself.

Request - Anonymous asked:

what about older brother/cousin/family friend (basically someone you're close to and grew up with) Robert Chase who hates when people in the hospital try to flirt with the reader. maybe he even gets the rest of house's team + wilson to also prevent them from getting hit on

cw: overprotective big bro chase!! cat calling, sexual harassment, mentions of child abuse, childhood trauma

word count: 1.8k words

a/n: I love big brother chase!! best big brother on planet earth!! Also, I know that chase canonically has a younger half sister who he took care of, but for the sake of my fic, I'm going to be ignoring that - The reader is chase's full sister! Also, for the first couple paragraphs of this there is little to no dialogue, just backstory! Also I kind of differed from the request so I hope you liked this anon! also this is an absolutely atrocious ending on my part im so sorry

For as long as you could remember, your older brother had looked after you - Despite him being 5 years older than you. He'd try and settle you the best that he could while your father was away on his work trips, and when your mother was drinking and couldn't deal with the two of you and she would lock you in your fathers office. He knew that your mother hated the two of you from a young age, but it didn't click for you - You loved your mom more than anything ever, even if she didn't feel the same way about you.

When your dad left when you and Chase were ten and fifteen, it left the two of you to look after your alcoholic mother - Chase took the brunt of looking after her, since you were still so young. He had taken on more than any child his age should have ever needed to, he was responsible for both you and your mom. He was responsible for making sure that you got to school and picking you up, responsible for making sure that you were eating, that your homework was done. Well, that was until your father made a brief return, only to tell your brother that he was sending you off to boarding school in England, claiming that Chase should be focusing on more important things rather than looking after you since that should be your mom's job. You spent 3 years at boarding school, on your own in a country you had never been to in your life before your brother decided that he would attend seminary in England.

Despite everything that had happened to you in your relatively short life, Chase had always known you to be happy and cheery even in the darkest situations - However, 3 years at boarding school had clearly had a negative impact on how you viewed your life and yourself. You were excited to see your brother, of course you were, but you were nowhere near as happy as you would have been had your father not torn you away from your entire life and made you start a new one at 10 years old. Chase took you out at the weekends when he could, but found himself having 'a crisis of faith' - Meaning he slept with the groundskeeper of the seminary's wife and was reconsidering his commitment to his faith. Upon leaving the seminary, Chase found himself considering returning to Australia to attend the University of Sydney to continue his study of medicine - He felt terrible for considering not telling you and disappearing. But he soon remembered how you were feeling when he had first seen you, you looked exhausted and as if you hadn't eaten in days; Remembering that, Chase knew that he couldn't leave you.

Since then, you had been living with your brother, moving to New Jersey with him since he had went for a job at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital - Unbeknownst to you, your father had called up Chase's boss, Dr House to convince him to give him the job. You had turned 18 the week before Chase started his new job, and since you were starting college, it appeared that you both had something to celebrate. Chase was beyond proud of you, you had gotten straight A's all throughout high school and had received a full scholarship to Stanford Law School in California, where you could at least travel back to see your brother since at least this time you were in the same country - Which you often did. Your drive to become a lawyer was so you could specialise in family law, after talking through your childhood with your therapist, you decided that you wanted to make a difference to children like yours lives before things could go as far as they did for you. Now on your summer break from your junior year, you were going to spend the summer in New Jersey with Chase - He had told you of the new fellows that House hired, Allison Cameron and Eric Foreman. You had teased him about Cameron, saying that you gave it 3 months before they were sleeping together.

You rubbed your tired eyes as you walked through the hallways of the Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, you hadn't managed to sleep on your 5 and a half hour flight from San Diego to New Jersey and it was really taking its toll on you - You didn't cope well without sleep, which your brother would attest to. You sighed and threw your head back against the wall of the elevator, exhaling heavily as your backpack weighed heavy on your shoulders. You gave a tight lipped smile to the janitor who stood in the elevator with you, who grinned back at you, giving you an uneasy feeling in your stomach. You looked away from him, opting to look at your legs instead.

"You're a beautiful girl, you know," He told you, reaching out to touch your shoulder. You shied away from him, feeling your heart pound against your chest as you saw his face screw up at you implicit rejection of his advance. "Listen, I'm just trying to compliment you, you don't need to be a bitch about it." He scolded angrily, moving to stand in front of you as you blinked back the tears which burned in your eyes.

"Please just leave me alone," Was all you could meekly manage out as a response to his anger at your rejection. He stepped back as the elevator dinged at your floor, acting as if nothing had happened. As you pulled your hoodie over yourself, you froze as the janitor grabbed your butt. You sighed and shook your head, trying to stop yourself from crying as you stepped out of the elevator and made your way to the diagnostics department. You sighed as you opened the door to the office, freezing like a deer caught in headlights as an older man, who you presumed to be Dr House, spun around to face you.

"Chase, why is there a mini you standing in my office?"

Chase looked up, a grin on his face as he saw you in Houses office. House knew that Chase had a sister, but he had never met her - Now he wished he had met her sooner.

"Hey," You greeted him, looking out of the office window, fearing that the janitor had followed you to the office. Chase took note of your lack of enthusiasm and how alarmed you seemed to be. He stood and came to hug you, noticing how you almost flinched at your brother stepping towards you - From this alone, Chase knew that something had happened.

"Are you okay?" His big brother instincts were cranked up to 11 as he saw the tears bubbling in your eyes, threatening to spill over at any second. You always got this way when something happened, you would try and be brave about it, but the second someone asked if you were okay, you would crumble. Chase knew you were close to crumbling when your bottom lip started to tremble. "Okay, why don't we go outside," You nodded in agreement to chases suggestion, not listening as he apologised to House, who made some kind of snide remark that you didn't care to listen to.

You managed to hold back the tears until you got out of the office, and that was when you crumbled, breaking down into tears in your brothers arms. "It's okay. Why don't you tell me what happened?" Chase asked you, his heart breaking and anger filling him at the thought of someone making you so upset.

"W-well I got in the elevator to come up here and there was a janitor in there too and so I didn't say anything to him and-and then he called me beautiful," You tried to compose yourself a bit before continuing so that your brother could at least understand you a little better. "And so he like...reaches out to touch my shoulder and I move away from him and then he says that I'm being a bitch because he's just trying to compliment me and then when I left the elevator he grabbed my butt." You explained to him. Chase was beyond mad. How could someone do that to you? To anyone, never mind his own baby sister.

"Did you manage to see his name on his badge?" He asked you gently, not wanting to upset you anymore than you already were. You sniffled as you nodded, rubbing your eyes and nose as you tried to calm yourself down.

"Yeah, it was David, he was like..5'3, bald, had a really weird looking beard," You described to Chase, who nodded as he hugged you again. He'd make sure that he was punished to the full extent Cuddy could punish a janitor, which would hopefully mean that he would lose his job, and have to explain to potential employers that he was fired for sexual harassment. And maybe, just maybe, Chase would pay him a visit. Chase was by no mean a violent person, but if someone messed with his little sister, he wouldn't let that slide - He had once hospitalised one of your ex boyfriends who had sent an explicit photo of you around your school.

Yeah, maybe you didn't have such a terrible big brother.

#Robert chase #hatecrimes md #house fanfiction #housemd fanfic #house md #robert chase x sister!Reader #x sister!reader #angst #house md angst #greg house #robert chase x reader

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prettypei · 7 months

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hii i enjoy your writing! may i request fluff drabbles for gojo, choso, yuta, noritoshi (kamo from the kyoto school) and hajime (aka kashimo the turquoise haired pikachu) please? like he's in an established relationship with reader and they're out on a cute date, being domestic and behaving like an old married couple. some ideas: ikea, grocery shopping, aquarium, art gallery, science museum/observatory etc

bonus if there are sweet romantic moments~ i'm fine with either fem or gender neutral reader, thank you i hope you'll consider my request! i just need something comforting to read bc shibuya arc has started in the anime while the manga is kinda at a tensed climax rn and i feel stressed lmao

plot: cute dates/domestic couple thingys with them!; fluff

reader: gn! Reader

characters: gojo, yuuta, choso, kashimo, kamo

warnings: yuutas kinda mean in this (but in a yuuta way)

(a/n): first req!!!!!! Hi hello anon I hope u like it 💪💪💪 gojo’s bento is very stereotypical Japanese LOL…KAMO IS SRSLY UNDERRATED!!!! Erm I also have like zero knowledge of flowers so sorry if it’s inaccurate, KAMOS IS SUPER CHEESY ENDING GBHBHJHHJHJH

✰CHOSO

Choso loves art. But he doesn’t only love art, he also loves you. So when you suggested to take him to the art museum for a date, he was overjoyed by the thought. But… he was embarrassed that you would see his drawings of you, so he hid it discreetly in his bag when you went to the museum. Yes, he paints you. Sketches you, even. But he’s way too shy to admit it, because god, he could never capture the way your eyes glinted or the way your smile stood out or the expression of pure bliss when he kissed you… he tries to avoid drawing you, but he can’t. You’re in every thought of his. And now, he’s trying to hide his notebook from you. He’s hugging it close to his chest, hiding it under his book bag as he mimicked the painting in front of him. It was a simple one, really…but it looked like it was missing something. He thought for a minute and his brain clicked. It was missing you. You would fit perfectly into it, since your eye color would stand out splendidly. He just finished drawing your face before… “whatcha doing?” He stumbles and knocks over his collection of colored pencils over the bench he was sitting on. “Nothing.” “Are you drawing something? Can I see it?” You ask excitedly. And honestly, could he ever say no to you? He mumbled a bit as he gave the book to you and started picking up the colored pencils, and you were surprised to see your own face staring back at you. “Is-is this me?” You smile. You flip through the book, and you noticed how your face was on almost every page. Choso looks up with a flustered face. “I-well-kinda? Yeah?” You drop down to the floor and hug him. “You’re so cute.” You mumble with a grin on your face. If he had known this would’ve made you like this he would’ve shown you this ages ago.

✰YUUTA

You and yuuta were at the grocery store, the second time this week, because food was running out again, since yuuta always insists on "buying just enough for both of us so we don't waste any food". If you didn't lie, you thought he quite enjoyed your silly little trips to the groceries. Even though the walk was short, you and yuuta often point out interesting things that cross your path. Last week you saw a dog wearing a fur coat, and just yesterday yuuta heard a construction worker whistle out the tune to "From the start" by Laufey. It's those simple things that quickly become inside jokes for the both of you. Upon arriving at the store, you usually follow yuuta as he shops for suitable groceries for today's lunch and dinner. But...after going shopping with him 3 times when you were dating, you noticed yuuta had a habit of looking at food labels. For a really long time. As yuuta examines the ingredients for the canned pineapples (why would you even need to do that? It's literally just pineapples!) you whine about how he's taking so long that you've started getting wrinkles. He then proceeds to give you a chuckle and a "wait a minute, love." and continue to read the can's contents. "(name)." He calls out your name in the most serious tone you've ever heard him in. "what?" He reaches into the cart and takes out a can of "grilled takoyaki balls: freshly made" and gives you a disgusted look. You shrug sheepishly.

✰GOJO

"(NAME)!!! (NAMEEEE)!!!" A tic almost forms at your forehead when you hear that sound, and, lo and behold, it is your husband once again embarrassing you in front of your co-workers. You walk over to him while crossing your arms. "What are you doing?" You hiss as the women (and men) all around you give you jealous looks. "Can't I surprise my darlin' at work once in a while?" He grins while holding up a bento box. Your eyes soften as you look at the homemade bento. Yeah, it probably tastes like shit cuz Gojo really can't cook, but...it's nice to see him put in an effort once in a while. "I wanna see your reaction when you eat it." He says stubbornly as he pulls your hand into the office building. "Oh boy." You think when Gojo shrugs off the security guard and waves to everyone as he waltzes into the lunch break room like he owns the place. He pulls a chair down for you and sits down in another one. "Open it, open it!" He smiles. You roll your eyes with a chuckle, and you're expecting to see some unidentified gunk, but to your surprise, it's a cute bento with sausages shaped like squid, egg rolls tucked in nicely next to the fried rice, and meat balls on a stick. “I made it four times, did you like it? And, well, I may or may have not made our kitchen a mess but it’s worth-“ You shut him up with a kiss.

✰KAMO

“Kamo, love?” “Yes, dear?” “Look at how gorgeous these Daffodils are!” You pick up a potted plant of them as Kamo miles at you. Going on dates to flower shops had become a routine for you and Kamo, since you both would do it weekly. “Yes, darling, they are beautiful. Not as beautiful as you though.” “Shut up.” You scoff as you roll your eyes and shove him playfully. Kamo has a wide knowledge about flowers, knowing what each of them symbolize and what they represent. Before dating Kamo, you would’ve never known that red, white and pink carnations had different meanings, or that white Hyacinths stood for loveliness. Most of the time on these dates you would stroll through each aisles, pointing out flowers or plants that you thought were cute. Kamo would then proceed to tell you the meaning. On the surface, it may seem like a repetitive action, but with Kamo, everything feels new and interesting. He may tell you a story about what this plant reminds him of, or about how this flower wilts to your beauty. At the end of every date (usually the shopkeeper has to kick you both out) Kamo buys you a bouquet of flowers, each symbolizing something about your relationship with one another. Even though sometimes the flowers wilt and you have to throw them away, he knows that his love for you never will.

✰KASHIMO

"Kashi! You look just like it!" Kashimo hums as he opens one eye to see you holding up a cat. You both are at a cat cafe, since you really do love cats and, well, Kashimo doesn't mind cats, really. But when he met you (a certified-cat-lover) his love for them had grown. Now, whenever he sees a stray cat on the street, he takes a picture and shows it to you. "Do I? Its hair's not green." He points out. "Well, it doesn't have to be! You and him both give off the same vibes! I just saw him standing on top of the bookshelf, thought it looked lonely." "You think I'm lonely?" He teases, getting down from his seat to sit on the floor with you. “Nah. You’re never lonely with me.” You grin. “Say hi to it!” “Hello.” He says with a deadpan face. “You have to be friendly with it!” “Hello.” He smiles an obviously forced grin. “😐” “I love you.” “Okay.” “C’mon, baby don’t be like that.” He smirks as he scoots in closer with you. You roll your eyes as you start playing with the cat. Kashimo’s eyes narrow as he snatch’s the cat away from your arms. “Hey!” “If you keep on playing with it more than me, I’m gonna think you were wishing you were dating it.” He ruffles its hair as he lets it go. “You’re so mean. It’s cute! Unlike you.” “Who exactly is the mean one?” You giggle and poke his cheek. “I’m joking, joking. I love you.” There’s a moment of silence as he takes in the words. “Well, I love you more. If this is a competition, I’m definitely gonna win.”

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earthry · 8 months

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Hello love I know your requests are closed, but i have to get it out of my system and tell to you about it (please just ignore me) I can't stop thinking about the idea of papas breaking up with reader to protect them and even telling them 'I never loved you' because this way it will be a faster way for reader to move on and stop asking question to their papa, BUT i think the even more angstiest plot twist would be if it was the exactly same day when reader was ready to tell her papa she's pregnant. A few months/weeks after this whole breaking out thing he could by accident find out about 'the news' (im sorry for taking your time, but this thing is on my mind literally on a loop for days and i think you're angst enjoyer just like me ALSO i hope you have an amazing weekend)

~🐍

Aksjshsh ANON it’s funny cause I literally had something almost exactly like that in my discarded drafts snsbsbsb I don’t really plan on finishing it or writing a full HC for it, but here's a little treat just for you. You can imagine any Papa here <3

tw: pregnancy, slut-shaming, self deprecation, hurt/comfort, angst, breaking up, happy ending! please keep in mind this is mostly unedited and just randomly written out spur of the moment.

After the breakup, everything he does reminds him of you.

It was a mistake— thinking that breaking up with you would set you on the right path, a better one. You had a whole life ahead of you, he didn’t want you wasting it by waiting for him every time he left for tour or had to cancel plans to attend to his papal duties.

He can see the toll it takes on you, the crestfallen expression you think you hide so well when he has to leave a date night early or when he has to call a rain check. The anxiety vibrating off you when you text him after a new concert video is released of him flirting with the audience, asking if it's okay to get reassurance that it’s just an act.

He needed to let you go.

It broke his heart to, but he in his eyes it was setting you free for your own good. You would never let him go if you knew his reasoning— he knew this so he had to make it seem like he didn’t want you anymore.

You didn’t believe him at first, begging him to open up to you and to stop joking around. You were convinced something or someone must have said something; the Papa you knew loved you, he wouldn’t suddenly fall out of love so quickly or be so cruel.

So he aims for the heart. He tells you it wasn’t really real, that it was all a game to him to play house for a while because he was curious. Now that his curiosity has been sated and he is bored, he sees no reason to keep you around.

It hurts him to say so, and he will never forgive himself for it, but he tells you that he never loved you in the first place, that you were just another body. That you were so easy to bed, it only took a few sweet words and you had already fallen so hard. He calls you laughable. Pathetic. A whore. He laughs as tears begin to gather, taunting you when you run out crying.

You avoid him after that— and he has his Ghouls deliver anything that you’d left in his room to your old room.

You toss the positive pregnancy test that you were waiting for the perfect moment to show him— it seems like there would be no perfect moment, there would be no moment at all.

He may not have loved you, but you did. Despite the pain, you can’t imagine a universe that you wouldn’t keep his baby.

You just don’t know how he’ll react. Once upon a time you had thought he would never ask you to get rid of the baby, that he would ask you what you wanted first and respect that decision. But you had also thought he loved you just as much and you were so very wrong.

You try hiding it as long as you can but eventually your belly gets too round to conceal.

You can see the realization cross his face in real time and when he tries approaching, you can’t help but look at him with hurt, fearful eyes. All it takes is for you to rest a protective hand on your stomach to tell him what he wanted to know.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, “I’m sorry, please don’t make me—“ you swallow back a soft sob, unable to even finish the sentence.

Of all the things he’s ever done, leading a satanic church, promoting sin and pleasure and corruption, this will forever be what he feels guiltiest for.

He doesn’t even think before reaching for you, trying to pull you into his arms to comfort. Can't think of anything else except that right now he needs to soothe you, needs to fix this.

Before, you would have melted into his embrace straight away. Now, however, you struggle and push him back.

He lets you, not wanting to force anything, not wanting to distress you. It’s bad for you— and the baby.

"Tesoro," He tries, gentling his tone as much as he can, holding his hands out with his palms up in an attempt to show that he means no harm, "Shh, shh— I won't make you, I'm not mad. I promise."

You don't believe him and he can tell from the way you are holding yourself— like a house of cards one blow from caving in. You don't know if you can do this again.

He had made promises before, too. Promises you had foolishly believed with naivety. How could you be so stupid, so gullible? To believe that out of all the people in the ministry, in the world, he would choose you? That Papa Emeritus himself could love you.

You should have seen it from the start but you had been too in love with him, too busy making sure you could be enough for him, only to realize that you never would be. There's a sinking realization that you were never enough in the first place.

You never meant anything, after all. He said it himself.

You wonder how it must have felt for him, to have to deal with your inadequacy and even your desire to learn how to make things feel good for him because you had little experience. He must have found it laughable, he certainly told you so.

You were laughable. Pathetic. Whore.

To want to be good at the one only thing you were good for... you wonder how he was able to stand you that long.

You put distance between you and him, arms wrapped protectively around your waist. He looks pained and you're having trouble figuring out what.

Was it because it would ruin his reputation? To have knocked up someone like you?

"I won't say anything," you rush out, "No one will know it's yours, please. Please let me keep it. Please."

"Amore mio—"

"I'm not your 'amore'. I never was, never will be. It's okay I understand that now. Please let me k-keep it."

"I..." He wants to say more, he wants to comfort you and hold you. But he doesn't really have a right to anymore and he can tell how upset you are, he doesn't want to aggravate you any further. "Yes, yes you can keep it. I won't interfere, you have my word."

You still look doubtful and he adds, "I swear to Lucifer himself."

There's a little more reassurance in that. You know him enough to know he wouldn't say those words lightly, even if he had lied to you and toyed with you the way he did. There's a relief that passes over you and you thank him as quickly as you can before dashing off. You hear him shout your name but you don't stop and he doesn't follow.

---

INSERT PAPA DOING HIS BEST TO MAKE UP AND DO EVERYTHING HE CAN TO MAKE YOU HAPPY. LOTS OF SELF LOATHING FOR PAPA BECAUSE HE DID A FUCKYWUCKY.

Eventually there's a moment where you ask why he's being nice, why he's doing this and he tells you he loves you and you call him a liar. He then admits his mistake and apologizes. He says he'll never do it again and will wait until the end of time for your forgiveness if necessary. Or if you never give it, he will wait forever even after the end of time. He is at your mercy.

You eventually warm up to him with hesitation, but you're cautious and always bracing yourself for the catch, for the bad things to happen again.

Papa continues doing his best to support you and be there for you and when he shows his dedication by being there for the birth of his baby and being there for you the entire time, you finally let him back in and offer him the first olive branch by asking him if he would like to hold his child for the first time.

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darling-i-read-it · 1 year

Text

Workplace Gossip

Jim Hopper x fem!younger!reader (reader is 25!)

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: age gap relationship (legal ofc!!), jim being insecure in that, innuendos, billy flirting with the reader, mentions of his daughter and her cancer

Author’s Note: hello again!!! if you recognize this one, you probably red Hugs way back when. this is the revamped version as an attempt to return to the stranger things roots before i hit the old billy and steve ones!! lemme know what you guys think <;3

The original request; by anon, Hi! Loved your Hopper imagine! Can you do another one with him with the reader and him having a bit of an age gap? I don’t own these characters. They belong to the author/director

(not my gif)

You were rushing. You could feel the cold nipping at your sides, freezing the mobility in your hands but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You breathed through your mouth as you walked down the sidewalk. If you started to run you could get to your job interview in five minutes. You looked down at your wrist watch and cursed under your breath. Running in heels wasn’t your best idea but showing up late wasn’t exactly the best way to start a job.

When you looked back up it was too late. You ran directly into a large man, causing an intake of breath from yourself and ‘shit’ from him.

“I’m so sorry!” you exclaimed. You caught sight of the badge on his chest and the hat on his head. Police.

You couldn’t be detained for not paying attention, that was ridiculous. Right?

“Where are you going so fast at 7 in the morning?” he asked, annoyance in his voice.

“I have a job interview.” You bit your tongue. At the station. There was an opening for a secretary job. “I’m sorry again, I’m already running late.” He let you move aside and rush down the street, now running in heels that were too tall for you. He mumbled something about being morning people and kept walking.

“I am so sorry, I got off on the bus at the wrong stop. I’m still figuring out Hawkins, I just moved here last week,” you explained, out of breath, perspiration beating down your forehead. So much for the business casual blouse you had sweat through.

“It’s no worries honey,” a woman at the front said with a dismissive look. “You were the only one coming. As long as you’re not a criminal, you’re a shoo in.” You let out a breath of relief.

“I’m not a criminal,” you promised. You handed her your resume, sitting down at the desk across from her. “I’m just out of college, 25. I’ve had jobs before during school but I’m looking for something more long term since moving here,” you explained.

“Why did you move here?” she questioned. It sounded more like curiosity than an interview question.

“It’s a small town, I’ve always wanted to live in a small town. Also, I wanted some independence. I’ve only ever really lived in dorms and such.” You fixed your hair eagerly.

“You picked quite the place.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“People who land in Hawkins never leave it. I should know, I was born and raised,” she muttered. She was shuffling through some papers like this wasn't a big deal to her. You cleared your throat.

“I’ve always just wanted to be part of a community,” you explained. “I like the small town community. I want to get to know the people. Grow my communication skills,” you suggested, even though it was only half true. You liked that no one ever left Hawkins. It left plenty of jobs for people like yourself, fresh out of college.

The front door opened. You both turned and you saw a face you recognized. He was holding a small box of half a dozen donuts.

“Meet your new secretary Chief,” Flo said, standing up from her desk. “She gets started tomorrow.” She grabbed the box out of his hands, walking through the doorway to where all the officers desks were. You stood up as well, trying to put on a smile. He looked down at you, sizing you up it seemed.

“You weren’t too late.”

“No sir.”

“Don’t bother with the sir crap,” he said, a gentleness to his voice. A casualness you admired. “Jim. Or Hopper.”

“Jim Hopper.”

“Yeah.” You extended a hand.

“Y/N Y/L/N. It’s a pleasure to work with you,” you said, brightly smiling now.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around town,” he said, starting to walk through the doorway. You followed him, unsure if you were supposed to but also unsure how you could continue the conversation otherwise.

“I just moved here last week.”

“Picked a hell of a place,” he grumbled. You laughed gently.

“I’ve heard.” He started to pour himself a cup of coffee. He gestured the pot to you but you shook your head. You were still high on adrenaline from rushing here. “How is crime here?”

“Riveting,” he deadpanned. “You’ll do fine.” His voice was so soothing. You nodded, believing him deeply.

“Promise?”

He smiled slyly, leaning against the table. He took a sip of his black coffee. You looked at him through your lashes, knowing you were going to get into trouble with this one. If he looked at you like that everyday you would never want to leave Hawkins at all.

“I promise.”

Technically speaking, Flo never intended on counting down the days until Chief Hopper asked you out but then on day seven she realized she was. She watched as you came into the room and he adjusted himself in his seat, his eyes floated towards you with a gentle care, and your smile widened. You were good at the logistics. You were good at the job. That made everything else easier.

You got the paperwork done that you needed to and sometimes, you got the paperwork he needed done as well. Powell suggested putting up a countdown to make it more obvious but everyone shut up about it.

“Don’t you think she should go with someone closer to her age?” Callahan asked, leaning back in his chair. Flo gave him a hard look as she walked through the room. You and Jim were in his office, powering through paperwork.

“Who, like you?” Powell questioned.

“She’s cute!” he argued back. Powell, actually doing work, rolled his eyes.

“Her frontal lobe is fully developed,” Flo argued. “She can make her own decisions. I, for one, would like to see the Chief happy since Diane.”

“Only ancient people remember Diane.” Callahan was trying to balance a pencil on his nose. It fell. He made it look like he hadn’t been doing it to start with. “You think she likes him?”

“I think she loves him.”

“It’s been literally a week. She could not love anyone, let alone Jim Hopper, in that time.”

“What about Jim Hopper?” You turned the corner, holding a small stack of papers.

“He needs to do his own work. You’re babying the old man,” Callahan said, pointing his pencil at you.

“He’s not that old,” you suggested.

“She’s right,” Hopper responded. “Watch your mouth Phil.” Callahan put his hands up in defeat and turned back to his desk. You put the things onto your desk to be finalized. You were coming to enjoy the steady, familiar pace of this new life. “I’m grabbing lunch.” He grabbed the keys to the cruiser. He paused, momentarily. No one else would’ve been able to catch it. You were watching him for his words, accepting them before they even came. “You comin?” he asked. You tried to hide the flush on your face as you glanced upwards, like you were attempting to make sure your schedule was full.

“Only if you’re paying.”

“Student debt that much of a bitch?” You grabbed your coat and put it on.

“I just like guys to pay on dates.” You walked past him, trying to suppress a smile. His eyes went wide as they floated to those around him.

“You two take the day,” Flo said, pleasantly, like she had orchestrated this whole thing.

“Literally go, Chief. Before I do,” Powell said. He had a small smile on his face too. He nodded, grabbing the door knob.

“I’m gone.” -

By week three it was like you had only known this life. It was like it had been pre-made for you. Your body fit the mold of a life that had been waiting patiently for your arrival. Work, dates, drive-ins, socializing. Apparently Hopper knew everybody in this town and with a little work, you got him to introduce you to people.

Never as the girlfriend.

Just as the new secretary.

You both tried to allow that to happen quietly. People would get used to seeing you two together eventually. There was no need to rush anything that didn’t have an exact label yet. You were just two people who happened to know each other. Intimately.

You were eating french fries across from him at work, flipping through some papers. He narrowed his eyes at you. You tried to act like you didn’t notice. He wanted to tell you something. You glanced up at him, chewing slowly.

“Yes Jim?”

“I have a daughter,” he said.

“El. Yeah, I know.” You hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting her yet but you had heard lots about her. He was silent for a moment.

“Sara. Her name was Sara,” he said, not meeting your eyes. “She died of cancer when she was 7. Everyone here knows.” He cleared his throat, sucking in air. “I thought it was unfair, if you didn’t know.” You knew he got divorced, Flo had told you that much. But you had no idea he had a daughter before El.

“Oh,” you whispered. You racked your brain in an attempt to figure out how to salvage this situation. How did he want you to react? How should you react? “I’m sorry.” It felt inappropriate to be looking at paperwork so you put it down. “Thank you for telling me.” He nodded once, picking it up from you and then stealing one of your fries.

“I have pictures of her at the house. I wanted you to know before you meet El.”

Eleven was wary but got used to you quickly. She liked that you acted a lot like Steve in some ways, even though you were eight years older than him. She liked that Max liked you. She liked that Mike liked you.

She liked that Jim liked you.

By week ten the cabin had become your second home. You laid on the couch while El watched a show. Jim had to work late tonight and you weren’t needed so you were always open to hanging out with her when you could.

The light television buzzing was comforting. You flipped through a magazine, feeling the night begin to cause your eyes to droop. El was happily eating some eggos, whipped cream to top it off. You suggested throwing some chocolate chips on top of it too.

“How’re you and Mike?” you asked, looking at the couple on TV. She had a dreamy look in her eyes. After hearing bits and pieces about how Jim came to have her, you were happy to see it. She deserved an easy life.

“Good,” she said, shrugging. “How are you and Hopper?” You smiled a bit.

“We’re good.”

“Good.” She pointed a finger at you. “The door stays open three inches.”

“El!” you teased, hitting her with the magazine. She erupted into giggles, whipped cream covering her smile. “You don’t even listen to that rule. There are like three rooms in this place!”

“More than one!” she argued, shrugging. You rolled your eyes. Headlights lit up the room. You had some of the blinds open but the sun had long set. It caused both you and El to wince.

“You’re glad he’s home little lady,” you said, pointing the rolled up magazine at her. You both laughed as you got off the couch. You peaked out the window, out of habit, and saw a car you didn’t recognize. You squinted, unable to see more than the outline in the dark. A man got out of the car, shutting the door behind him.

He walked in front of his headlights. You could see the outline of a mullet. He knocked on the door. Hopper, ever prepared, always left a baseball bat beside the door. You grabbed it nonchalantly, leaving it out of the eyesight of your guest.

El had turned around. Hopper wouldn’t have knocked.

Leaning against the door was the infamous Billy Hargrove. You had heard enough about him to be able to recognize him, not to mention you had seen him once or twice with Max. Jim’s words came back to you.

“He has more parking tickets than the rest of the town combined.”

“You’re being dramatic Jim.”

“Never get in that boy's car.”

“You jealous Jim?”

He had rolled his eyes then but you could see what he was talking about now. There wasn’t a scratch on the car but there was a bruise on his face.

“Hello. You are not who I was expecting to open the door.” El was hidden behind the couch, blocking his gaze from her. “Where’s the Chief?”

“Working,” you said, too meak for your liking. “Can I help you Billy?” He chewed on the toothpick between his teeth. He had a charming smile. You imagined lots of girls were the victims of that smile.

“I’m looking for my sister, Maxine. She around?”

“Nope,” you said quickly. “I haven’t seen Max since this afternoon. She was at the arcade with El and everyone.”

“You play taxi driver too?” he questioned, playing a bleeding heart.

“When Jim can’t.” His eyes went wide but you suspected it was fake.

“Wait, you aren’t El’s cousin from out of town or something? You’re sleeping with Hopper?” You flushed, immediately unable to stammer out a reasoning that benefited the situation. You hadn’t actually had an interaction like this.

“Max isn’t here Billy,” you finally offered.

He took the toothpick out of his mouth.

“Well you know where I live if you ever want a good time,” he suggested. He tossed it aside. Littering. How attractive. He was starting to back away when you heard the sound of another car approaching. At the sight of someone else Jim stepped on the gas, pulling in at breakneck speed. He knew that car, even by the outline. “I never caught your name.”

“Y/N,” you said.

“Thanks for the help Y/N.” He winked at you as he turned around. Jim hopped out of the car, shutting it aggressively.

“What are you doing here Hargrove?”

“Just looking for Max,” he said, hands in the air. “Your girl was mighty helpful.” Billy got into his car before anyone could punch him and backed out, rivaling Jim’s breakneck speed.

“That fucking kid,” he grumbled as he walked in. You put your hand on his back, following him in. You kicked the front door shut behind you. “What’d he want?”

“He just asked if Max was here.” You made the executive decision not to go further into that. “I said she wasn’t.” He took off his jacket. There was an aggression there you weren’t used to. He walked to the kitchen to get some food and probably a beer.

“Thanks for watching her.”

“I can watch myself,” El said, looking up at him. There was a slight tinge in her voice that made you think she was telling the truth.

“I know you can. But it makes me feel better if she’s here too.”

“I don’t mind.” You followed him to the kitchen. He offered you a beer but you declined. “How was the rest of your day?”

“Good. Better now,” he muttered, kissing you on the forehead. You smiled, wrapping your arms around him. He embraced you, eyes lingering on the door.

You didn’t think it ever really affected him. The age difference seemed like something you were used to from day one. But you knew Billy had affected him. The Hargrove boy was everything a young girl could want. He was bad as in bad boy.

He didn’t say anything about it the rest of the night.

You didn’t see Billy again for a couple more weeks. He became nothing more than a mindless thought in the back of your mind. You weren’t even that pre concerned with him the next day, though you could tell Jim seemed to be. You wanted to bring it up but felt like bringing it up would only make it worse. You waited until El was at Max’s, deciding that doing it alone would be the best route.

He strayed near the phone in case El needed him.

“Callahan said he would finish that,” Jim was saying.

“When has he finished anything? Since I have moved here I have seen him get out of the chair two times. Maybe three!” You were eating pizza, the boxes strewn across the coffee table. The TV was on but neither of you were watching it. You laid on his back, rested comfortable between his legs.

“That’s why we hired a new secretary.”

“I’m not an officer?” He laughed again. You turned around to him, giggling. “Could you imagine me with a gun? Jim, give me your gun, let’s see how that goes.” Your laughter melded, his arm resting around your chest.

“Absolutely not.”

“Exactly. Exactly.”

You rested back down, snuggling into your spot.

“Flo said she’d figure it out so you could have a day off without being called in. But I’m sure Harrington will lose a fight or something and we’ll both be called in.”

“Damn job.”

“Damn job is right!” You grabbed his hands, messing with his knuckles. “Let’s turn on the radio.”

“Oh God.” You stood up.

“I’m done with my pizza, I wanna dance.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do. Try to keep up old man.” It just slipped out but you regretted saying it immediately. He didn’t show an outward reaction at first but he stood, eyebrows raised.

“I seem to be able to keep up with you pretty well.” You tried to ignore the sly smile on his face.

“Damn straight. Dance with me Hop.”

You offered your hand to him as you fumbled around the radio. He walked past you, turning it on. You scrambled away to turn off the TV when there was a knock on the door.

Both of you turned, surprised, caught off guard.

“You expecting someone?” you asked.

“No. You?”

“No sir.”

You approached the door because you were closer. He stepped in front of you, opening it up. Max was on the other side, laughing bubbling from her lips. El was standing there too.

“How did you get here?” he asked immediately. You saw Billy’s car before you saw Billy. You put your hand on Jim’s chest, pushing him back as gently as you could. It was like he could only see Billy at that moment, eyes red.

“You’re back Y/N,” Billy called, leaning against his car door. He rested his hand on the top of the vehicle.

“What the hell?” Hopper roared. He walked past the girls.

“Inside. Quickly,” you hissed to them. They listened wordlessly.

“You think it’s okay to drive my daughter around in that car? If I looked up the license of that car I would see so many tickets I could wallpaper my house!”

“You haven’t taken me up on my offer,” he said, directly to you. “Shame.”

Billy wasn’t helping his case. Not in the slightest.

“Hargrove get in your fucking car and go the fuck home,” you snarled. Billy watched your face and then finally paid Hopper a thought.

“Offer stands.” He got in his car before Hopper could beat the shit out of him. Part of you wanted to see it. When his car was gone there was a heavy silence.

“Fucking Hargrove,” he grumbled. You were both still standing out in the cold. You shivered. “Fucking Hargrove. He could’ve killed her.” He looked back at you. You were still watching where his car was. “Hey.” Your eyes snapped to him.

“Yeah. Fuck him.”

“What’s that?”

“What’s what?”

“The look on your face.”

“I don’t have a look.” His face fell a bit. He put a hand over his mouth, rubbing his beard in annoyance.

“Do you like-”

“No.” You nipped that in the bud. This was the conversation you had been dying to have.

“He’s closer to you-”

“No,” you said again. “Don’t say it. Don’t even dignify that thought with the words.” His face eased. “I love you.”

His eyes went wide again. The words hung in the air like they were being let out to dry. You felt confident in them. Even your nerves wouldn’t let you take back such a true statement.

“I don’t care about all of that. I never have.” He looked like he was searching for something. You opened your mouth to tell him he didn’t have to say it back but he was already speaking.

“I love you too,” he breathed. The words came easy once he had said them.

“Good.”

“Good,” he repeated back to you. You walked up to him, throwing your arms around him. He hugged you tightly.

“Plus,” you muttered, “he’s not my type.” He chuckled into your hair. He wanted to kiss you. He never wanted to stop kissing you. He found, for a moment, a wordless moment, he had wished Billy would’ve taken El and Max back so he could have the house just for the two of you. He swept the thought away as quickly as it had come. But having you in his arms was too intoxicating.

“I wanna listen to the radio,” you whispered. The laughter from him came louder now.

“Alright. Alright c’mon.” You repressed claps. He had his hand on the small of your back as he led you back inside.

“She said she loves him. I can feel it in the air,” Callahan muttered. He was chewing on a donut. His eyes were small. He was concentrating.

“Entirely possible they fucked in the car,” Powell countered.

“Calvin!” Flo exclaimed.

“That could be what you’re feeling. All I’m saying!”

“He said it back,” Callahan mused, his voice far away.

“Now you’re stretching,” Powell promised. “Chief in love? Not in this lifetime.”

#jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x fem!reader #jim hopper imagines #jim hopper fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #hopper x reader #hopper x fem!reader

506 notes · View notes

fuckmymunson · 2 years

Note

Anon from yesterday hehe, so what I had in my mind was that, reader is James' stepsibling (since I'm poc) and is in Slytherin. Hence he hates them. Even in Slytherin they're not respected and bullied cus they're nice. They also try to be like James and are animagus only so could get love but James confesses he hates his sibling.

Fast forward, reader marries regulus who again treats them like crap. Their marriage is sad. Until maybe something happens and regulus realises their value and later even James accepts them. So basically shit ton of angst with happy ending.

Sorry for long request. You can make it as dark and angsty as you can

𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 — 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤

☆ CW: ANGST, suicide attempt, a lot of cursing, family issues, bullying, James (probably OOC, but idgaf<3), being really, really mean, Regulus being a bad husband. | word count: 5.4k. ☆ a/n: First time writing Reg, sorry. Part II it's still in the making (yes almost a year later, leave me alone lmao)

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Can’t the dark side light my way?

Another morning was waking up to an empty bed.

Rolling on your side, you sighed pressing your cheek against the silk pillows. Every morning was the same, every day felt the same in this old house.

Wrapping yourself in the soft robe, you walked downstairs, to the kitchen, where your husband was already, a cup of black coffee in one hand and the daily prophet in the other.

“Good morning.” You said as you did every morning.

“Good morning,” Regulus muttered back, as he did every morning.

Monotone, a routine, tasteless. That's how you could describe your marriage. Oh, and loveless.

“I'm going to Diagon Alley, do you need anything?” You asked, side against the doorframe.

“Can you buy more of those cinnamon rolls you brought last week?” Regulus lifted his gaze from the newspaper.

You nodded and he muttered a quiet thanks, and with that, you were off. It was always like this, boring conversations, obligatory questions, obligatory answers. He wasn't your husband, he was more like your roommate, perhaps a stranger whom you shared a roof with.

Diagon Alley was crowded, as it always was. Store after store, you stopped by the local bakery, smiling at the (apparently) only thing you had in common with your husband.

To say you didn’t care about Regulus would be a lie, even if it was an arranged marriage, and even if you two had your discrepancies in the past, he was now someone who circulated your orbit daily. Someone whom you liked it or not was going to be there for a long, long time. Regulus was more of a ghost, a phantasmagoric entity that floated around you from time to time, barely speaking, barely acknowledging your existence.

But fights? Were there too. Rather constantly.

Sometimes over nothing, sometimes over past wounds, that were still fresh, sometimes because of his family, sometimes because of yours. Fights always ended up the same, with you sobbing against your silky pillows, and Regulus sleeping in one of the guest rooms.

“Excuse me” A feminine voice behind you dragged you out of your melancholic daze. Turning around, your eyes widened as you recognised the redhead woman in front of you, with a shy smile and a baby with wild hair and green eyes in her arms. “I’m sorry for bothering you, I was just passing by and I saw you here. Say hi Harry.” She cooed at the smiling baby in her arms, who eyed you curiously.

“It’s okay.” You assured her, not sounding convinced at all. “Hello there.” You smiled at the little Harry, who just giggled, his little teeth peeking through his small lips.

“How you’ve been?” Lily asked, clearly trying to start a conversation. “I’m sorry if it seems a bit… meddlesome. It’s just, I never see you around and, you know.” She looked around, visibly nervous.

“Lily.” You spoke softly. “I understand.” You knew where this conversation was heading, and it was something you weren’t really in the mood for. “You don’t have to talk or interact with me if you don’t want to, I don’t mind.” You stopped caring about that long ago.

“I do want to!” She chirped, almost offended. She understood how difficult your situation was, but she was, after all, your stepbrother’s wife. “Harry’s birthday is next week, I was going to send you the invitation, but, hence we are here—”

“James won’t be happy to see me there.” It was true, a crude truth though. Lily frowned but didn’t object, proving you right. “I don’t want to ruin Harry’s birthday party with my presence, besides, I don’t think Regulus would even consider it, I’m pretty sure his brother will be there. ”

“Oh.” Lily quietly muttered, she didn’t think about that further. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You gave her a faux smile, one she didn’t believe at all. “Excuse me, I have to go. I’ll see you around.” Another lie. “Goodbye Harry.” You waved at the infant, who just looked at you with his big, green eyes.

The second you stepped out of the bakery, you heard Lily’s voice calling your name. Once again, you turned around, clutching the paper bag against your chest. You really wanted to go home, but you were too polite to ignore her. She approached you, with a fierce determination in her eyes.

“Look. I know James isn’t the best brother.” She didn’t use the correct title, just like she always did back at school, and James always corrected her, frustrated. “I know he was a total asshole in school, and I’m sorry I never speak up or did something to stop him. I understand family can be difficult, God, my sister? Petunia, she despites me.” She chuckled slightly, shaking her head. “I’m not trying to be a bridge between you two, I won’t force you to reach out to him either, I just want to see you happy. I’m was going to talk to James tonight, and probably scold him for everything he has done these past years, perhaps a few years late, but better late than never, right?”

It seemed too, genuine.

You were speechless. With a deep sigh, you give in, Lily was too persistent, and you were sure she wouldn’t give up, she was head girl after all.

“Fine.” You smiled, this time it was a real smile. “I’ll talk to Regulus tonight as well, I can’t promise you anything, but, I’ll try.”

“Thank you.” Your sister-in-law hugged you, for real. She smelled like peaches and cinnamon, and baby powder. “Thank you, I promise you, everything will get better.”

Everything will get better.

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“No. Absolutely no.” Regulus stood up from the armchair, frowning. “Are you out of your mind?”

“It’s just a party, Regulus.” You interjected, pinching the bridge of your nose. Why did he have to be so uptight? “It won’t hurt. Lily really wants us to go.”

“Us?” He asked, raising his hands, annoyed. “There is no us.”

He was right. There was no us.

Regulus saw, firsthand, how your chest deflated, how your gaze lowered, and how you sighed. He was right, there was no us. It was only you, It was always just you.

“I’m going to bed.” You announced, turning around to hide the tears. Fights weren’t new, but what was new, was the raw twist in his stomach, at the sounds of your sobs on the other side of the main bedroom door. Regulus pressed his back against the wooden frame, listening to how you cried. It wasn’t the first time you cried after a fight, but why did this time make him feel something?

Was it regret? Guilt? Remorse? All of the above?

He slept in the guest room that night, and as he lay on the pillows, he realized he couldn't recall when was the last time he slept next to you.

Dreams weren’t nice either, they weren’t an escape from the cruel reality. Dreams, at least for you, were a constant reminder of how miserable your life was.

Dreams. Memories. Nightmares.

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Laughs, evil laughs. Evil snaked dressed in green and silver surrounding you, mocking you. You rubbed your eyes, groaning at the sticky feeling of your fingertips over your face, your hair, your uniform. Someone spilt a glass of orange juice over your head, and no one did anything to stop them. No one cared, no one overlooked.

For the proud and ambitious house of Slytherin, you were just a poor joke. You were the insignificant excuse of a wizard, and definitely, you didn't belong with them. You were too nice, too soft, you were a gentle soul. Qualities that, the Slytherin house wasn’t quite fond of.

And they were sure to remind it every day of your school life.

Across the dining hall, students from other houses looked at you with pity, amusement and even curiosity. Were they expecting you to defend yourself? Probably. Were you going to? Probably not. Instead of giving them a piece of your mind, you just ran away. Once again, as you rubbed the orange juice off your eyes, now mixed with the salty tears of humiliation, they laughed, and their cruel barks echoed in your ears, your mind and your heart.

How did this fit in your story?

Outside, under the dark night sky, the stars were bright. Glowing carefree in the firmament. Your feet wandered around the edge of the astronomy tower, wondering how it would be to be a star. Maybe this just wasn’t your timeline. Maybe you weren’t born to succeed, to achieve great things. Everything just felt empty, flavourless, pointless. Since when did that bright smile change into a sorrowful grimace? When did everything go downhill? Questions, questions, so many questions and no answers. Shaky hands held tightly on the chilly rails of the tallest tower in Hogwarts, where the wind was colder and the stars were closer.

Have you ever dreamed of being reborn as a star? Many times. A wish, your last wish, as your feet started to move away, closer to the sky. Star light, star bright, wish you may, wish you might. Closing your eyes, ignoring the tears streaming down your cheeks, you let go of a hand, darting dangerously around the edge. Everything would be quick, painless, and that’s what you wished for the most, for the pain to just stop.

"Wait!" A voice, a masculine voice. A voice of a star, the brightest star. You opened your eyes violently, gasping at sudden vertigo in your stomach, your feet slipped, and realizing for a fraction what you were about to do. It was too late now, your hands were away from the rails, as your body sway almost gracefully, towards death.

His hand grasped yours, it hurt. Great, just what you needed, more pain. Regulus held firmly to your hand, as you sobbed. Carefully, he eased you back into the ground, your knees wobbling the second you landed on the stone floor. Hard sobs rocked your body, your heart pounding wildly inside your chest.

“Why?” You asked, between sobs. “Why did you stop me?”

“Why were you… going to—” Regulus started, breathing heavily, shocked by what he just witnessed.

“Because I knew no one would stop me.”

"I'm sorry for what happened in the Great Hall." He already said that, why did he insist upon it? "I should've said something, what they did to you was so unfair, even if…” Even if it what?

“Even if I deserved it?” You suggested with half-lidded eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” Regulus kneeled next to you, keeping a prudent distance. “I didn’t mean it that way, sorry. I don’t know what to say. It was wrong, you don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Pity. It was pity.

“Regulus.” Hugging your knees, you inhaled the sweet scent of orange juice lingering in your uniform. “Don’t pretend you overlook me. They have been pestering me for years, and you never seemed to care about it. If this is a joke, it ain’t a funny one.”

“It’s not a joke!” He protested. “I just… never actually cared, yeah. Until now.”

Until now.

“Until now?”

Days later, you found out, what ‘Until now’, finally meant. It meant a black, wax-sealed letter, a bad omen. Just a few words were enough to crumble the little piece of peace you had.

War. Fiancé. Marriage. Regulus Black.

You threw the letter to the fire, watching it twist and burn in the desertic common room, late at night with a blanket around your shoulders. You were too immersed in your own thoughts to notice his presence. Regulus called you, making you jolt in surprise. He saw the envelope next to the fire, and the ashed on the wood confirmed his suspicions.

“So, until now, uh?” You asked, with a harsh tone, harsher than intended, not bothering to look at him.

“I’m not happy either.” His voice was a brick, and you were sure he had an unpleased frown.

“There must be a way. I’m sure.” Standing up, the blanket rolled down your shoulders, pooling on the thick green rugs. “Fuck.” You cursed under your breath. “This can’t be happening.”

“It’s borderline ironic.” Something about Regulus’ tone didn’t sit quite right with you.

“Ironic? How so?”

“She's vivid by the idea of me marrying a pureblood, a Slytherin, she didn't even care that your Mother was married to a Potter. A blood traitor, just like my br— just like Sirius.” Of course, it all came to that. Of course, Regulus was just like his family, just an elitist, classist piece of shit. “Perhaps we can tell my Mother how much of a coward and weak you are." His words tensed you, were all the Blacks so venomous? "How you aren't a real Slytherin.”

That was the last drop, your thirteen reason. “Sure, and we can tell my Mother how much of a self-centred asshole you are. How you can't see beyond your fat nose and realize there are other people besides you." Your nostrils flared with rage, no tears, just rage.

Regulus’ face contorted into one of anger, outraged by your words.

“I regret walking on you that night.” He scoffed, looking at you as if you were nothing more than a speck of dirt in his expensive leather shoes. “I wish I could travel back in time and stop myself from not letting you fucking kill yourself, giving up like the coward you are. Absolutely pathetic.” His words were pure venom, living up to his house and its emblem.

You slapped him. His face distorted into one of surprise. "I wish I had died that night. So I don't have to watch your ugly fucking face daily."

That night, like many others, you cried yourself to sleep, casting a silencing spell around your bed, hiding from the world, letting the pain consume you, poisoning your soul. Days only got worse, your grades dropped, and soon the whole school knew you were engaged to none other than the Regulus Black. Students stared at you more than usual, whispered louder than usual, and you ever wondered if you became a zoo animal without noticing it. The little contact you had with other students was now unexistent, you spent the majority of the time alone, in the library, where books couldn’t hurt you.

The library became your safe space, a bubble to hide from the real world. Standing on your tiptoes to reach the highest shelve, your attention caught a familiar voice, a loud one, too loud to be allowed in the library.

"Moony c'mon, we'll be fine!" James, it was James.

"Stop insisting, Prongs." Remus answered, and he sounded annoyed. With silent steps you walked closer to them, leaning over a bookshelf, eavesdropping on their argument. "Last full moon was a disaster."

"You know who's fault that was." That one was Peter.

"Keep it down, please." Remus sighed. "You're lucky she knows how to heal a scratch like that. Because if Madame Pomfrey ever hears about this—"

"She won't!" James interrupted him. "She said that she'll be close so if we need her, she'll be there."

You heard Remus's breath hitching. "Are you out of your damn mind? I'm not going to let her near me when I'm a fucking werewolf, Prongs."

A werewolf.

"Calm down, Moony, we know is your time of the month." Sirius's teasing tone only had the opposite effect. "Ouch! Fine, fine, I'll stop. But don’t pinch me like that, it hurts.”

“Great, now shut up.” Remus groaned, annoyed.

It made perfect sense. Years ago, you heard Severus teasing him in one of the few classes you shared with them, calling him "Loony Lupin", a freak, pointing out his scars... Speaking of scars, he had a lot of them.

A couple of essays and works about werewolves had taught you only one thing: They were cruel creatures and extremely dangerous, but, Remus never, in a thousand years looked like a cruel person, he was the only one of James's close friends who had never actively participated in your stepbrother's antics to humiliate you and bother you, but he didn't do anything to stop him either, and you learned the hard way that doing nothing was also part of the problem.

“I still can’t believe you three spent three damn years, putting your lives at risk to become an animagus.” Remus scoffed, but then laughed. “You guys are insane.”

“Hey,” Sirius said. “Anything for our Moony.”

What the hell was happening? First werewolves and now animagus? It really, really, really made perfect sense. Padfoot, Moony, Prongs and Wormtail.

If James and his friends could transform themselves into an animagus, how hard could it be?

It was hard, extremely hard.

It could be considered delusional and psychotic, attempt it without previous preparations, and professional supervision. Being young and naive makes you do stupid things, just for the sake of being accepted and loved. Book after book, the migraine drilled deeply into your skull, it was borderline impossible. After two weeks of exasperating research, two broken quills and a roll of paper, you always ended up with the same conclusion: It was dangerous. Becoming an animagus without any type of help or supervision from the Ministry of Magic was basically a premeditated suicide.

Constantly asking yourself how could they manage to do it without getting caught, how were their methods, how were they still alive? After your third attempt that night, hiding in the Astronomy tower, your whole body ached, a bad move could ruin your life forever, becoming a half-human half-animal, or in the worst case, becoming a corpse. The books you had scattered around the cold floor were useless now, they only repeated the same words with different fonts, words that only vanished your enthusiasm. You didn’t have enough time, enough skills and enough confidence.

"Come on, come on." You whispered to yourself, closing your eyes, feeling the magic flowing through your veins, powerful, strong, earthly. It felt natural, it felt yours.

It was there, you could feel it. You were so, so close. Your whole body tingled, the sparkles in your soul the purpose of your efforts igniting the magic within you. Just a little bit more...

It was gone, and you groaned in pain. It vanished as quickly as it approached, four failed attempts were enough for that night. So, while throwing the useless books inside your backpack, you walked back to your dorm carefully to not be caught by Flitch or Mrs Norris.

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

Full moon. It was time, it was your last chance.

It was risky, worst case scenario you could die, your corpse rotting the night. But, death wasn't a thing you were afraid of, at least not anymore. You planned every single step that night, you went through it the whole week. You avoided Regulus, you avoided James, you avoided everything and everyone. The hardest thing was to know when and how to follow them. You knew they were leaving the castle at any time soon, you were a smart girl after all. Logically, Remus couldn't transform near school, for the safety of other students and himself. Dungeons? No, inside the school it was impossible, very noticeable too, and too easy to guess. It must be out of the school grounds.

The first step was to successfully walk out of the school without being caught, and perhaps one (if not) of the most challenging (asides from the transformation itself), then all you had to do is wait. Wait for a signal, for voices, steps, anything. Hiding outside of the castle, next to the greenhouses, the night air was cold, really cold. Wrapping yourself in your jumper, you waited to hide next to a pile of dirt sacks, patiently.

Forty minutes or so later, when you started to doubt your plan, you heard them. Not them exactly, but you could recognize McGonagall's voice everywhere. Taking a quick peek, Madame Pomfrey was also there, and they were escorting Remus, who was silent between the two women. Taking a prudent distance, you followed them all the way to the Whimpering Willow, and you watched in awe how McGonagall with a flick of her wand paralyzed the tree, walking right into a hole next to the prominent roots, followed by Remus and Poppy. So, there was a secret passage. It made sense. But where did it lead them to? Hiding behind a big rock, you waited again. Until they returned, chatting in a low voice.

Until you were sure they were far gone, this was your only chance. Mimicking Minerva's movements, you hoped a simple paralyzing spell would do the trick, and to your surprise it did. Wasting no time, you slid under the tree, scratching your hand as you did so, wiping the little pearls of blood in your jumper. The dark pathway was lugubrious, and you weren't exactly sure where it would lead you, you reached the end, and a weak ray of the pale moonlight guided your steps until you were outside of the Shrieking Shack. This was an excellent location, away from Hogwarts and away from Hogsmeade, plus, the abandoned house had the reputation of being haunted, so, naturally, no one approached it. It was brilliant!

You heard voices, and this time it was them. Running to the nearest tree, you hid behind it, cold sweat running down your face. The unmistakable sound of Sirius' laugh filled your ears, and you watched how the entered the house. The moon was almost at its peak, almost ready to take its protagonism in the dark sky.

A deep, crucifying silence reigned over the terrain until you heard it. A howl, a deep, loud howl, mixed with pain and ache. It was your signal to go with the final step. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. Inhaling, exhaling. It was now or never.

There it was again, that sensation running through your veins, pumping magic through every cell of blood. Your skin felt warm, tingling, you felt every hair, every pore. Taking a deep, long breath, you closed your eyes. Wand in hand, you took another profound breath, placing your wand-tip against your heart, begging to the stars.

“Amato Animo Animato Animagus.”

Blazing pain and an intense shiver ran through your body. The bright moon witnessed everything, how your body contorted in agony, your heartbeat was loud, hard and fast, and then it stopped, for a brief instant. Then two. Double heartbeat. It was too late now. There was no going back. A dark cloud fogged your mind, and it happened, you saw it, inside your head, and it was beautiful, it was graceful, it was you. The fear that followed you through the transformation started to crumble your bravery, but surrendering only meant one thing:

Death.

Opening your eyes, everything was… different. The sounds were louder, the scents were stronger. The perspective was abysmal, what was big was now small, and raising your gaze, there it was, the full moon, golden and proud, smiling softly at you, or at least it seemed to.

Their scent was strong, mixed and together, they were a pack. You heard them from miles around, and the rational voice inside your mind kept you in line, it would be too abrupt to approach them firsthand. Sneaking silently around the abandoned building, you devoured your surroundings, every rock, every stick, every curve. The fresh imprint of paws guided you through the woods, closer and closer to the forbidden forest. Still keeping a safe distance, you joined their voices, still hesitant.

The big, grey wolf was the first one to approach you. Slowly at first, reluctant. Were you a friend or an enemy? The tension was high in the skies. He growled, cautious. It was him, it had to be him. He sniffed the air, your scent, and taking a seat, he maintained eye contact, narrowing his golden eyes.

You didn’t felt threatened at all. It was an innofensive interaction, you could smell his curiosity, if that was even possible, or even rational. The atmosphere relaxed for a bit, and the wolf laid down, resting his snot in his long paws. He accepted your presence, but it wasn’t an invitation either. You chirped happily, progress was progress.

Until, the rest of them emerged from the shadows. Larger than you, stronger, angrier. They didn’t liked you, at you could sense their discomfort and hazard. The large, black dog, barked at you, a simple warning: ‘Stay away’. You remained still, blinking slowly, showing them no harm was planned. At least not from your part. The stag was the biggest of them all, with enormous, extravagant horns, graceful swirls in a soft bone colour. The usual prey now looked and acted like a true predator, and the brownish stag was the first one to walk closer to you, looming over you. Stretching his neck, the animal attempted a showoff of dominance, to express how proud and unwelcoming he was.

Behind him, the black dog growled again at you, this time louder. A second warning: ‘Leave’. But you didn’t. You remained still, strong-willed.

A sudden high-pitched squeal caught your attention, and you observed how the wolf was stepping on the tail of a abnormal big rat, not in a dangerous way, more leaning into a playful manner. Unfortunately, letting your guard down for a brief second was a mistake. The black dog pounced, this was the third and final warning. He hovered over you, the drool dripping down his canines. Rolling over a couple times, you tried to fight back, but it was hard, this new form was still new, and your movements were clumsy and dull.

His sharp teeth were wrapped around your throat, hard enough to pierce the skin but not to be considered mortal. The primal instinct of survival ran through your veins, and using every ounce of strength you had in your animalistic personage, you pushed him off you. It wasn’t a fair fight though. The painful stab of the Stag’s horns against your sides caught you off guard once again.

Wheeling over the dirt, you hissed in pain, panting. The adrenaline was high and the anxiety too. Loud alarms inside your head screamed at you. Run, run, run. On all fours, you sprinted away, quickly being pursued by the two aggressive animals. The wolf’s howling broke the silence surrounding you, it was a long, melancholic howl. From the sounds of heavy steps behind you, you knew they were getting closer. They knew how to move, you didn’t. Your legs gave up, sore and pristine to this new anatomy. Those sharp, brutal teeth caught the flesh of one of your back legs, as you cried in distress.

«No, no, no, this can’t be the way I die.» The rational and human voice inside your head sobbed.

A flash of gray freed you from the dog’s grip. The two canines fought against each other, barking and howling at each other, as if its human sides were in a heated argument. You suddenly remembered, the stag was still there, and you wouldn’t comit the same mistake twice.

Duels for you, were never fair, less, if your adversary was your stepbrother, James.

The stag was stronger and bigger, but you were lighter and faster. Dodging every lunge and assault, the strong scents of their proximity clouded your common senses. This wasn’t correct, you never meant to hurt them, especially him. For a very strange reason, you still cared for him, even after all he had done.

Bright, warm rays of sunshine dazzled you, the sun was rising, which only meant one thing; The world stopped for a minute, and everyone ran back to the Shrieking Shack, where they were supposed to be in the first place, but this was far from over.

Running back to your first hiding spot, you closed your eyes again, resting your shivering form against an old tree trunk, accumulating all the last resilience you had to transform back. If someone had told you a month ago, you would’ve been hurriedly dressing back up, bleeding for a hundred superificial wounds, next to the Shrieking Shack, you would tell them they were out of their fucking mind. The sun was brushing the horizon, carefree, as the moon waved back, ready to leave and gossip with the stars. With trembling steps, you walked towards the haunted house, panting, one hand making pression on your stomach, where your most profound wound was.

Inside the old place, it reeked of dirt, old magic and a hint of cinnamon, and maybe citrus, and odd combination, to say the least. Their voices were loud whispers, and, turning around a corner, you found them.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” James shouted, however, this time you didn’t backed away, to hide and cry.

You were too tired to run away.

“You almost killed me!” You snapped back, surprising him with your offputting attitude.

“Stop,” Remus interjected, standing up from a broken, dusty bed, just to groan slightly in pain and sit back down. “Shit—. She knows, she knows too much.” His face was bloody, he was wrapped in a yellow blanket, his silver scars peeking through the fabric along with new ones, angry red and still bleeding.

“Fucking idiot.” James stepped closer, clutching your shoulder. “You ruin everything. You’re so selfish, you are so stupid.” He continued, unloading his anger on you, just like he always did. “Do you know the risk you made us take? Just because of your senseless actions!”

“James.” Remus called him again, this was going too far.

“Remus, he’s right.” Sirius spat, sharing the same venomous look his brother did, nights ago in the Slytherin’s common room. “She knows too much, and if she opens her big, fucking mouth, it would be the end of us.”

“She’s not going to, right?” James pressed, looking at you dead in the eye, you had never seen him this furious before. “She won’t if she knows what’s good. You’re just a self-centred bitch, you can’t stand people having friends right? Just because you’re a loner and no one fucking likes you—”

You slapped him, all across the cheek, knocking off his glasses and successfully shutting him up. Tears ran down your muddy cheeks, this was it, this was your limit.

“Me? Me?!” It was your turn to shout. “Since I met you, you've done nothing but make my life miserable!” Breathing heavily, chest rising with the unpleasant feeling of resentment and rancor. “I did everything! I tried everything for you to like me! I just wanted to be your fucking friend James. I just wanted to fucking be happy, for once!”

“So you became an animagus, in the ridiculous attempt to join us?” His tone was mocking, the tone every student used to address you. “Pathetic. I would never like you, you’re just a lying snake. You don’t care about us, or my father, your mother is just marrying him for Godric knows what. You would never be part of my family.”

“I fucking hate you!” You stomped your shoe at the creaking wood flooring. “I fucking hate you James, you’re just an arrogant piece of shit! You think everyone likes you, you think you’re the greatest, but no. You are just a pretentious, smug fucking loser. You’re the one who doesn’t belong to Gryffindor, you’re a bigger snake than I would ever be!”

James pushed you, face red with rage. You collapsed to the ground, groaning in pain, from head to toe your body was sore, every inch of skin screamed in agony.

“Take it back.” He demanded, forcing you to look at him. “You think you hate me? Then I hate you ten fucking times more.” He spat. No one uttered a word. “I wish you were dead, I wish my father had never married your golddigger mother. You don’t deserve my last name, my house, anything!”

“Fuck off!” You replied, kicking him, crawlinging backwards, attempting to move away from him. “Get away from me!” His hand yanked your hair, making you sob.

“You’re fucking dead to me. I would never, ever see you as an equal. You’re nothing, you’re useless. Everything everyone says in school is true. You’re nothing more than a pathetic mistake, and you dare to call me a loser? At least I have friends.” He let go, turning around to pick up his glasses. “Everyone is right; You are just a hindrance. You don’t belong anywhere.

“One day.” You promised. “One day you will fucking regret those words.”

James laughed, Sirius laughed, Peter was to stunned to speak, and Remus was too tired to even think properly, besides, this wasn’t his battle. Nor of Sirius, or Peter.

In the end, it was always, only you.

Sorry for any mistakes! English is not my first language. I appreciate any feedback!˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

#regulus black x reader #regulus x reader #regulus black #regulus black angst #regulus black x reader angst #regulus black x you #regulus black x y/n #regulus black scenario #regulus black imagine #regulus black x female reader #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin #petter pettigrew #marauders era #regulus by omel!#omel's asks<3 #omenhel's love letters #🌼 anon

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takecareluv · 2 years

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(2/2) May I please request Vinnie dating someone super shy and as introverted as him and when they're at parties he gets a bit clingy and protective (because he understands how invasive and overwhelming they can get) (and he also might use it as a bit of a reason to not have to talk a lot and be in everyone's insta story lol). Please and thank you

a.n. hi anon! i hope you like it! this is definitely me when it comes to parties so i really channeled my inner introvert writing this haha! also i love protective & clingy vinnie, he is so 🥺🥺. anyway love ya, enjoy <3

i got you baby || vinnie hacker x reader

after having been traveling abroad for the last several weeks, you and vinnie finally returned to sunny california. although you would miss paris dearly, and quite frankly wished you never had to say goodbye to the beautiful city, you were thrilled to be back in the comfort of your own home, your own room, and most importantly your bed.

since a young age you were extremely introverted, and that did not change even with your presence on the internet that involved a lot of socializing and large events. so following multiple weeks in europe of doing just that, along with the extensive travel day you just experienced, you found yourself drained to say the least. you knew you were in desperate need of some alone time that would help to refuel your dying social battery.

you had been so content cuddled up in your bed with hera and a mountain of pillows before vinnie walked into the room looking just as exhausted with the phone to his ear, and bursted your quiet little bubble. you couldn’t see who was on the other line, but you could tell from your boyfriend’s face that he was none too happy.

“can't we do this another night?” you heard him question, “we just got back man.”

after a minute of the whoever was on the other end rambling away, vinnie finally agreed to whatever they were asking. “fine we’ll be there.” who’s we? you thought to yourself, because you didn’t plan on leaving this bed for the next week.

“okay.. yeah... alright bye.” he ended the call letting out a loud groan before falling next to you on the bed.

“what's wrong, bub? who was that?” you asked, reaching out to run your hand through his hair in attempt to soothe him.

“thomas. he said they're throwing a little get together for us tonight since we’re back and everyone misses us. i tried to get him to switch it to another day because i know you need some rest but he wouldn’t budge. apparently everything is already set in place.”

you began to grow nervous at his words. you knew from past experiences that there was nothing little about a hype house “get together”. when you and vinnie were still living in the house, you often found yourself hiding away in your shared bedroom until the party quieted down.

you were never big on partying in the first place, and with how crazy hype house, influencer parties typically got, they became your biggest nightmare. you wouldn’t mind it as much if it wasn’t for the cameras constantly being shoved in your face and the invasive questions being asked about your relationship with vinnie from other content creators, some of whom you’ve never even met, desperate for some clickbait.

all you wanted to do at these parties was enjoy some down time with vinnie, talk to a couple real friends, and maybe even have a couple drinks if you were feeling it, nothing to overboard. but soon after moving to l.a. you realized that’s not what these parties were about. just like everything else in this city, it was all about content. in the back of your mind you knew this get together wasn’t about your and vinnie’s return, they just needed any old excuse to throw a party. and you, of course, had to be dragged into it.

“i'm sorry, baby. i know this is the last you want to do tonight. but we can just go for a little bit, say hi, and then sneak out. i'm sure no one will even notice we’re gone. and then we can come back here and cuddle for the rest of the night. mkay, my love?” vinnie said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

you only nodded in response, cuddling further into his chest trying to calm the anxious feeling growing inside of you.

time seemed to go by rapidly that day, and before you knew it you had to start getting ready for the party you did not want to attend. with that being said, you only put on a faint bit of makeup, not even bothering to do anything with your hair once you got out of the shower, and put on an outfit that was more comfy than cute. not having the energy for anything more. i mean who were you trying to impress anyway? the only person who mattered was standing right next to you, and quite frankly he didn’t care if you wore a garbage bag tonight, he would think you looked as beautiful as ever.

on the short ride over to the hype house, vinnie grabbed your hand, intertwining them and placing kisses to the back of it at every stop once he noticed how fidgety you were starting to get. soon enough you were pulling into the long driveway full of sports cars in every direction. when the car came to a complete stop vinnie got out first, jogging to the other side to open the door for you. once you were out, he swiftly interlaced your fingers once more and gave you a brief kiss. “i got you, baby. i'm not leaving your side tonight, okay? anytime you want to leave, you just let me know and we’ll be out that door.” he said with reassurance.

you smiled at how caring he was over you, especially knowing he hated these parties just as much as you did. but he never let you see his nervousness. “thank you, vin. i guess let's go try to have some fun,” you laughed.

the minute you walked into the house, you immediately became overwhelmed. everyone turned to face you, excited for the internet’s favorite couple’s arrival. “y/n! vinnie! you made it!” and just like that multiple people were rushing over to you both, asking questions about your recent trip and how your relationship was going, not without their phones and cameras ready to film for their instagram stories or next vlog.

you were quick to squeeze vinnie’s hand, your anxiety heightening more and more with each moment that passed. he instantly knew what that meant and pulled you away from the growing crowd around you. “sorry guys, we’re just gonna go grab some drinks. we’ll be back.” he said with a smile.

once you both made it to a more secluded area of the house, he turned to you. “sucks we don’t have my room to hide in right now.” he joked, which made you giggle. he was happy to see that smile back on your face, even just for a minute. “are you okay, sweetheart? i know that was kind of overwhelming.”

“i’m fine,” you tried to reassure, but did not sound so convincing. “really i am. as long as i have you by my side, i'm good. i promise.”

“well that's good to hear because i am not leaving you at all. you're gonna be sick of me by the end of the night.” he replied, pulling you in for a kiss.

“i could never get sick of you, my love.”

for the rest of the night, you took your usual position as a wallflower with vinnie clinging to your side, constantly checking to make sure you were okay. some people might have found it annoying, but you thought it was sweetest thing. it actually made you adore him more than you already did, if that was even possible.

anytime someone would attempt to walk over to you two, he would promptly pull you in for a kiss so the person would get the memo not to bother you. after the first few times, you finally caught on to what he was doing. “vin, it’s okay. i can talk to people. you don't have to protect me from everyone.”

“i know but i don't want to talk to them either.”

this made you laugh. “you ready to head out, baby?”

“mhm. let’s go” he said while grabbing your hand to lead you out of the noisy and overcrowded house, sending anyone who bumped into you dirty looks.

as soon as you arrived home, you made your way back into your room, crashing into the bed.

vinnie walked in behind you. “take off your shirt, baby.”

“what?” you responded, caught off guard by his blunt request.

“no,” he realized what he said, “not in that way. i just mean i could tell you were tense the entire time at the party and i wanted to give you a massage so you can relax.” he babbled.

“you really are the best boyfriend ever. thank you for protecting me tonight and always.”

“that's what i’m here for. i love you, sweet girl. now c’mon, lay on your stomach.”

you giggled, “ yes sir.”

“don’t start something you can’t finish, baby girl.”

#vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie hacker fanfic #vinnie hacker blurb #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker x you #vinnie hacker x y/n

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casuallyawkardd · 7 months

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Hello dear, how are you? 😘 I wanted to know if it's ok, do you write an imagine where reader calls Miguel for the "first" time from the nicknames that spiders sometimes call him, but NEVER in front of him like "Guelito" "Miggy" or my favorite " Miguelito". thank you and I loved the second part "Close Encounters of the Spiderkind" I'm looking forward to seeing the next chapters

'Miguelito' is also my personal fav 😌 I should start work on pt 3 of 'Close Encounters of the Spiderkind' very soon so thank you for the love. Appreciate you anon 💕

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader

Warnings: fluff, awkward beans being awkward beans, can be interpretted as platonic or romantic depending on the vibes you want

"Sounds like big guy's mad again."

"When is he not, Parker?"

You shot the other spider a half hearted glare, too tired to fully commit. It had been a long week, in fact it had been a long three weeks. Someone, everyone had agreed not to point fingers, had lost one of the anomalies. It was a variant of Rhino, some version that looked like a bodybuilder and a mecha anime had a baby, had barreled his way through HQ and was now loose in Nueva York. Miguel's home turf.

For being such a large hunk of muscle, the anomaly was apparently very good at flying under the radar. When you and the other spiders were able to get a ping on him, he was even better at forcing his way through an escape plan. Every 'we almost got him' and 'we'll get him next time' seemed to be grinding against your boss's psyche, sometimes clenching his jaw so tight that you were concerned about his teeth breaking.

The latest hunting party was gathered in the cafeteria, comprised of Gwen, Hobie, Pavitr, Peter B and you. The bane of your existence right now, aka Peter, was obnoxiously slurping on his soda on your right, taking a bite of his O'Hara Burger between gulps. Normally things like that didn't bother you, but today it was like nails on a chalkboard; the urge to beat your own burger, that had quite the resemblance to your boss, to a pulp only growing by the minute.

"Can we just all agree that good, old Migs was the one who fumbled the bag today, yeah?" Hobie chimes in with his usual nonchalant attitude, picking at his own food.

"A...greed," everyone chimes in, all equally tired. Well...almost everyone.

You side eye Peter, who seems to be holding off on his own response. "Well..." he starts carefully, speaking through a mouthful of burger, "you were the one who wasn't able to cut the anomaly off at the corner."

"Excuse me?" you snap back.

"I'm just saying," he holds up a hand in a placating gesture, "I don't think blaming Miggy for everything is always fair. Man's got a lot on his plate keeping all of us in line."

"Boo..."

"Yeah, you sound like an old man."

The younger spiders at the table joined in on the conversation, "I am an old man, respect your elders," Peter scolds the teens before looking back at you. "Look, I'm just saying maybe take one for the team and...apologize."

"What!?"

"For fumbling the bag today."

You take a deep breath in through your nose, head leaning back as if asking for an answer from someone up above. Finally, with a heavy sigh, you look back at the man next to you, "And why do you think me apologizing will help?"

Peter shrugs, "Maybe an apology is what Mig needs to relax a little, he likes when people take accountability. Besides, everyone knows he has a soft spot for you-"

"That man doesn't have a soft anything," you cut Peter off before he can start rambling.

"C'mon," Peter sighs, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder, "just go in there and be all 'Ohhh~ Miguelito, I'm really sorry for messing up, please let me help pull that stick out of your ass,'" his impersonation of you has you snickering despite yourself. Damn him and his dorky humor.

"I think I'd be dead if I called him that, or anything we call him when he's not around."

"Honestly, our little nicknames are probably the more tasteful ones," Gwen notes, "Trust me, I've heard some real creative ones."

And that's what brought you to where you were now, slowly making your way into Miguel's lab. You had to keep playing the events of earlier today in your head as a reminder of why you're even here in the first place. Yes, you were the one who was meant to stop Rhino from escaping yet again, but Peter was right. You had choked. Froze on the spot and Miguel had to be the one to pull you to safety. The memory replayed over and over as you mentally scolded yourself, thinking that Rhino would be in the Go Home Machine right now had you stood your ground. But hey, hindsight was 20/20.

"Whatcha doin'?" Lyla's chipper voice pulls you from your thoughts, yellow hologram blipping from here and there as she followed you.

"M'here to see Miguel," you answer a little reluctantly, knowing what she'll ask next.

"Why?"

"Because."

"Because...?" Lyla's now projecting at your side, life sized and walking in stride with you. Her eyes are focused on you, not needing to watch where she's going, seeing as she fazes through every obstacle. Your silence has her pixels forming a teasing smirk, "Oh, you did something wrong~" she coos in a sing-song voice.

"Not now, Lyla."

"Jeez..tough crowd today. I'd expect it from Miguel, but you? I thought we were friends," Lyla stopped walking, giving you a mock pout that had you rolling your eyes and continuing on your way. Lyla's so-called 'betrayal' was short lived as she appeared on one of the control tables, sitting with her legs crossed. "Well, it is good you're here. Big guy's been debating whether or not to call you into his office for the last hour."

That had you pausing. "Why does he want to talk to me?" you ask the AI, who only smirks back. It's clear that she knows, what you know, that he also knows... "How mad is he?" you decide on inquiring next, wincing a little in anticipation of her answer.

Lyla keeps you waiting, of course she does, humming and tapping her chin with a finger. "Not...too mad. Slightly over the average amount for him."

"Was that supposed to make me feel better?"

Lyla laughs behind her hand, pixels now standing in front of you again, "Come on, you're stalling~ Rip it off like a bandaid," she pantomimes patting you on the shoulder. With a heavy sigh, you press on into the main room of Miguel's lab.

He must've heard your conversation with Lyla, the platform already starting to lower at its painfully slow pace. Miguel is standing stiff, hands on his hips and his back to you. The sight has you swallowing thickly, nerves only heightened as you watched the man, who was going to tear you a new one, approaching in the most ominous way imaginable.

With a deep breath, you step forward, finding your voice after a moment, "I think we should talk," you tell him, cursing how your voice has that slight waver to it.

Miguel audibly sighs as well, shoulders sagging at the effort. "I agree," he replies, turning to face you and stepping down to the ground floor. Your stomach drops as he approaches, Miguel stopping and crossing his arms over his chest as he looked down at you. Why he had to be stupidly tall and intimidating was a mystery to you, one that wouldn't be solved in this moment.

"Look, I know today could've gone better," you start with, "we almost had Rhino and we lost him. Or, I guess I lost him.." your eyes avert to the floor, hands fidgeting together, "What I'm trying to say is-"

"I'm sorry."

The two of you speak at the same time, giving you pause. Your eyes finally look up to meet his, brows knitted together in confusion. "I'm sorry, what?" you deadpan, looking at him in disbelief. Surely my ears just aren't working, you think.

Miguel huffs, not a fan of repeating himself as he adjusts his stance, "I said, I'm sorry. The anomaly got away again, that's on me."

"...What."

"You were in the prime position to neutralize the target and I got in the way," he continues to say, as if not hearing your interjection. "I...let my concerns get in the way and cloud my judgment-"

"Wait, hold on-"

"I let you down, I let the team down..."

"That's enough, Miguelito-"

"¡Cállate!" You jump when he raises his voice. "I'm trying to swallow my pride and apologize here," he snaps, annoyance evident in his tone. He huffs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers and muttering under his breath in Spanish. You, on the other hand, were frozen on the spot. Mainly because you were still reeling from his initial outburst, but as realization set in at your slip of the tongue. Maybe he was too mad to notice?

"I came to apologize to you," you clarified, pausing when Miguel shoots you another glare. However, you were unperturbed, "It's my fault the mission went wrong. I got cold feet," you spoke a little softer, embarrassed at your confession. "If anything, I should be thanking you for making sure I didn't get trampled to death..."

"Stop," Miguel chimed in, holding up a hand to silence you. His lips pressed together in a hard line, thinking of what to say next. "You don't need to be so hard on yourself."

"Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?"

"Hey."

You crack a smile, hiding a chuckle behind your hand. Miguel's frown deepens and you can't help but laugh even more at the sight, the tension in the room dissipating once you realized the feeling of guilt was mutual. That and the fact you were both too stubborn to let the other be in the wrong. He seems to catch on to the irony of the situation, a reluctant snicker escaping him as he shook his head wryly.

Before either of you could pick up where you left off, there was a beeping sound coming from each of your Gizmos. It looked to be an alarm, further inspection revealing that Rhino had been spotted and all available spiders were to go to the given coordinates.

Miguel was on the move, his touch surprisingly gentle on your arm as he guided you to follow him out of the lab. Once you fell into stride, he was typing away on his Gizmo, "Parker, do you copy? I want you to gather the group from earlier and meet y/n and me there."

"Got it boss," the familiar sound of Peter B's chipper voice answered, "Anything for you, Miguelito~"

You winced slightly as he emphasized the nickname, a fresh reminder of your slip of the tongue. It had you feeling anxious once more as you walked beside the source of said anxieties.

"Don't call me that," Miguel snapped into the comm, "and don't be late," he added before ending the call. His eyes glanced your way, causing your breath to catch in your throat for a brief second. The knowing smirk and low chuckle he gave you in response was a surprise, stunning you even more.

It took a moment for you to remember that you were still walking, quickening your pace to catch back up. The two of you didn't speak as you walked through HQ, some kind of silent understanding that your earlier debate would be an 'agree to disagree' kind of situation. Everyone knows he has a soft spot for you, Peter's words echoed in your head, putting a little spring in your step. Confident that you wouldn't freeze up this time around.

Tags: @prettylittlebrowngirl @khaleesihavilliard @leahnicole1219 @edgycatx @graysonshaven @qiaipia @3zae-zae3 @melovetitties @jebsoxnoshansk @thedevax @erissco @its-carlerrr @muimui06 @cheezit-luv3rr @leo-lvr @stqrlightrs

#miguel o'hara #reader insert #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara x you #x reader #anon ask #lovely anons

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solarmorrigan · 1 year

Note

I’ve just read made with love (and yarn) and it’s absolutely fantastic but it also made me think: Eddie gifting Steve his very own hellfire shirt and Steve wearing it but everyone just assumes that Steve is wearing Eddie’s shirt and they’re all just very nonchalantly *shoulder shrug* “guess they’re together now”

So when Eddie and Steve actually get together nobody is surprised because “we knew for months already” and Steve and Eddie are very confused because “we’ve been together for two weeks?”

Hellohellohello I am sorry I sat on this for, like, a month, but Anon, you gave me An Idea. And then life intervened and it took me forever to write it, but! It's finally done and thank you very much because it was great fun to write (and I'm so glad you liked the other story, too, thank you for saying so <3)

The kids aren’t oblivious. They have eyes, after all

So when Steve turns up wearing a Hellfire shirt and reveals, after Mike demands to know where he got it, that Eddie gave it to him, the kids know exactly what’s going on

Obviously, Eddie and Steve are dating

Which- finally. It only makes sense, the way they’re always in each other’s space, always staring at each other, always laughing at some little joke between the two of them while annoying everyone else. So Eddie finally gave Steve a Boyfriend Shirt, and now they’re dating

And as much as some people (coughStevecough) might like to say that the kids have no manners, or sense of personal boundaries, or common decency, they do actually know how to behave like functional human beings. Like, sometimes. If they care enough. And they do care about Eddie and Steve, so they make some allowances

For instance, significant others get shotgun privileges; if Steve is driving, Eddie gets the passenger seat, and vice versa (no matter how much Dustin grumbles about it)

On movie nights, they leave the easy chair in Steve’s living room alone even though it’s the most comfortable place to sit, because it’s Steve’s favorite place to sit, because Eddie usually ends up smooshed in there with him, insisting that it’s such a big chair it can fit two people (it can’t, really, but that seems to be the point)

When they go out to eat, they make sure that there are two empty seats left side by side so Eddie and Steve can sit together (usually at the end of the table; they both seem to like placing themselves between the kids and the door, which is completely unnecessary, but sort of nice in a way they won’t admit to)

And just occasionally, on nights when gatherings run late and Eddie and Steve seem comfortable, wrapped up in each other and dozing off like a pair of old men and not two early twenty-somethings, the kids will call someone and arrange for another ride instead of catching a lift with Steve or Eddie like they’d originally planned

See? They can be considerate

Dustin pokes at Steve, who lifts his head drowsily from where he’s nodded off curled into the corner of Eddie’s couch, Eddie himself draped all over Steve and half snoring into the crook of his neck.

“Whazzat?” Steve mumbles, shaking his head to clear the sleep and blinking up at Dustin. “Time t’go?”

“Jonathan’s gonna give us a ride, since you two are useless and fell asleep,” Dustin says quietly, his smile conveying more amusement than anything. “I’m just letting you know we’re leaving so you don’t freak out when you wake up later.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but the “thanks” he shoots back is sincere, if grumbled, and Dustin goes to wait with everyone else out in the cool air of the early fall evening. Mike, Will, and Lucas are loitering around the trailer door, waiting for Jonathan to arrive; Max and El are waiting with them before convening to a sleepover at Max’s place across the way.

“Okay, but that is still weird, right?” Mike is asking the group at large, pointing towards the door as Dustin comes out. “Them being together? They don’t even have anything in common.”

Dustin glances back over his shoulder before taking a seat on the front steps. “Who, Eddie and Steve?”

“Yeah.”

“Nah, you’re just mad you lost ten bucks betting it would take them longer to start sucking face.” Dustin smirks.

“Ew.” Mike’s face twists briefly in disgust. “No, look, I’m just saying, they have totally different interests. Like, Eddie’s into D&D and metal and cool stuff, and Steve’s got whatever lame shit he’s into, so what do they even do together?”

“Well, Mike,” Max drawls, “when two people love each other very much - or at least when they each think the other is hot, they–”

“Oh my god, shut up!” Mike screeches, shoving at Max as she cackles at him.

Jonathan arrives not long after that, stemming any further conversation (or yelling) on the topic.

Back inside the trailer, Steve shakes Eddie gently from his nap.

“Hey,” he murmurs as Eddie is stirring. “It’s late. We should go to bed, I don’t wanna sleep on the couch all night.”

(The suggestion that he and his friend both go to bed--as in together--doesn’t even register as weird anymore. His definition of what constitutes casual intimacy is beyond fucked; he and Eddie have decided to stop caring.)

Eddie hums, turning his head to rest it against Steve’s shoulder and scanning the empty room with sleep-bleary eyes. “Gremlins gone already?”

“Jonathan got ‘em,” Steve replies. “Hey– have they been acting weird lately? The kids?”

“Oh, for sure,” Eddie says, stifling a yawn. “But I haven’t had to fight a fifteen-year-old for shotgun in, like, a month, so I haven’t been questioning it.”

Steve snickers. “Yeah. It’s... like, it’s actually been kind of nice, though. Really nice.”

Eddie lifts his head finally, shuffling back a little so he can look at Steve properly. “What has?”

“Getting to be close to you,” Steve says, meeting Eddie’s gaze head-on.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, a smile teasing across his face.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “And I’ve been thinking that... maybe we could do it more officially.”

Eddie snorts. “Official, huh? You wanna get some forms notarized before cuddling the fuck out of me? Maybe put on a suit and tie?”

“Let’s not go that far, you weirdo.” Steve rolls his eyes. “How about just a date?”

Steve tries not to hold his breath, tries not to be nervous; he’s talked himself into and out of this question so many times since Eddie had given him that club t-shirt, insisting that Steve was at least an honorary member.

“A date, huh?” The way Eddie’s smile has only grown is very promising. “Yeah, I– I think we could do that.”

Steve grins in return. “Good.”

(Barely two weeks later, they decide to announce to the party at large that they’re definitely Official now—paperwork not included—only to receive the most lackluster response they’ve ever seen come out of their loud, dramatic troupe of children.

“Uh, yeah, we know,” Dustin says, barely looking up from the notebook he’s scribbling character notes in. “You’ve been dating for months. Old news, guys.”

“Uh, no, we haven’t,” Steve parrots Dustin’s snarky tone right back at him. “Dude, the hell are you even talking about? Our first date was, like, a week ago.”

This gets everyone’s attention.

“It was what?” Dustin demands, voice gone pitchy.

“A week ago, Henderson, try to keep up,” Eddie says.

Any other forthcoming details, however, are drowned out as Mike stands, jabbing a triumphant finger at Dustin and declaring, “You owe me twenty dollars!”)

#steddie #steve & the party #eddie & the party #steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #max mayfield #stranger things #solar wrote #eddiesteve

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unladyboss · 7 months

Text

JUST CARMY

I'm always so confused about Carmy's behavior. Like the more I try to figure it out, the more confused I get. It's like what Ebra said about Mikey, he got confused by his behaviors. So I thought about it and realized that maybe I was confused because I'm SUPPOSED TO BE CONFUSED.

Because you can't reason out the behavior of an addict. I really think now that Carmy is a high functioning alcoholic. When I figured that out, my heart dropped and I looked at all scenes with different eyes. Hear me out. High functioning alcoholics are difficult to spot. They can maintain near normal appearance for job, family, friends etc, but it eventually catches up

1. The alcohol in the office . It's there always. Check the green bottles

2. Alcohol just at different levels

3. Carmy's mom is an alcoholic. It's rare for none of the kids not to be alcoholic. Mikey was a drug addict.

4. Maybe the reason Syd's dad hasn't met him yet is because he'd get outed. Syd's dad doesn't drink, possibly because he used to drink too much.

5. If Syd's dad used to drink too much it would explain, some of her attraction to Carmy. That codependent thing that occurs in families of addicts

6. Claire. I'm sorry I was mean about Claire but she was a big big clue. That's why Claire was brought in.

When she said she remembers Carmy and he gave her the wrong number, its possible that the past him also drank too much. I'm not too sure

However, she manages sad drunk people. Even though he doesn't drink in front of her and drinks pop. The clues were in front of us. Red cup party.

The insistence of Claire to track him down. Possibly a tool to help him see that he needs help. She manages him the whole time.

7. The anxiety

8. The ibuprofen for headaches

9. The insomnia

10. Everything in his life is pointing toward him needing help

11. He's going to Al-Anon meetings. We think it's just about Mikey but then the look of the meeting changes and he says it's three times a week so Al Anon may have switched to real alcoholics anonymous meetings

12. Mikey not wanting him to work at the bear, might be him knowing that Carmy would probably fall into worse things... Maybe he saw Carmy's own addiction and kicked him out

13. The tattoo. He knows alcohol is bad and can kill, not just because of his mom, but because he's doing it.

14. The mood swings. Screaming at people, anger, one minute mad, the next minute calm

15. All the Al Anon pamphlets he was reading. That wasn't just about Mikey. It was for him

16. Brain issues - wet brain. 'is that sound in my head?' When the alarm goes off. Cicero asks if it's not driving him crazy. He said he's used to it.

Is my hair on fire? He asked Syd

17. The fidgeting fingers. Withdrawal. Need a drink to stabilize

18. The disappearing, like into the fridge. Remember one time the Pepto was in there? The drink could be too if it's not in the office any more

Pepto usually near to the alcohol . Disappearing from the Bear. Just bailing on things in general.

19. The delusions seeing his old boss at friends and family and being inconsolable.

29. Panic attack.

The whole sydcarmy thing could be and probably IS happening simultaneously along with the high functioning alcoholism.

But this is mad serious.

30.I think they put JOSH in that last episode to show just how high functioning an addict could be, but that eventually the addiction will ruin things

31. Big hints at Claire's party

32. The chest pain, heart beating fast

This is so serious.

I don't think I'm wrong

We said the show runners were playing in our faces. I thought they meant just about Syd. It was probably them trying to show us THIS, but we were too distracted by SYDCARMY.

When I figured this out, I couldn't watch the sydcarmy interaction the same way any more.

This whole time he's probably been going through bouts of withdrawal and symptoms of that, along with relapsing.

I feel sick.

I HOPE I'm wrong, but I don't think so at all.

You guys. Talk me out of this. I need reassuring words right now.

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erin-bo-berin · 2 years

Note

i saw an anon ask about a second part to ‘sorry’ and i’m dying cause that sound so good,, like i can imagine steve kind of tearing up,, especially if it’s a little girl- like imagine stevie realizing what an ass he was sometime back,, but you had left maybe?? then one fine day he sees you and yours and his baby and his mind goes like skkrt,, because there you are the love of his life, the one person he loved more than anything in this entire world and the one person he hurt so much?? and his beautiful kid and gaaahh it kills me to think of this angst being angsty and fluffy- maybe he starts crying just a little and the baby’s name is something that signifies reader and his relationship like constellations they used to watch or flowers he used to get her,, my brain turned to mush i’m so sorry <3

also can i please be this anon 🪐 || if it’s not already taken? <3

Yes you can absolutely be that anon! 🥰

Also I’m imagining it like roughly 16 months later (so adding up if reader was 2 months by the time she told Steve and then the jump of almost a year and a half, baby girl Harrington is going to be 9 months old) I just want baby cuteness and angst and all with Steve 🥺

Mistakes

Steve Harrington x Reader

Part 2 to Sorry

Part 3: Growth

Part 4: Love

“Holy. Shit.”

Steve couldn’t have said it better himself.

When Robin had uttered the two words, he’d turned from where he was leaning against the counter, talking to her during a particular slow period at Family Video.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Or to put it better, who he was seeing.

You were like a mirage. A fantasy come to life.

A ghost of his past, if you will.

He hadn’t seen you since that day in the diner. The day he made the biggest mistake of his life.

Begrudgingly, he had to admit it took him longer than it should’ve to realize he made a horrific mistake. He’d ignored the pit in his stomach that day he left you at the diner, that feeling of wrongness settling in his chest. After all, he was doing it for you. He was trying to be the bigger person.

The only thing that accomplished was making him the biggest asshole of the year.

Probably of the century.

It had taken weeks of his friends knocking some sense into him before he finally accepted that he needed to make things right. During that time, he finally opened up to his friends, revealing all his insecurities, his doubts and his fears—all stemming from shitty parents and one relationship gone horribly wrong before he’d even met you. He’d realized he’d projected all this on you, fearing that you weren’t in it for the long haul, afraid that you’d leave him if things got too tough.

He should’ve known that wasn’t true with how hard you’d fought for your relationship after that final break up.

But he had learned by opening up to his friends that that was something he needed to become comfortable doing with you. You deserved to be let into his mind, see all the not so attractive parts of him. It had terrified him before, but knowing you wanted to hear to help him, to be there for him made it a lot less scary.

When he’d gone to find you though, to beg you for forgiveness, you’d already been gone. Your roommate—who you didn’t particularly care for, which is why you’d basically lived at his place during your relationship—had told him you’d moved home with your parents, who lived an entire state away.

From that day on, he never stopped beating himself up internally. The guilt actually ate him alive.

What kind of man was he?

He’d left you, pregnant and alone.

Now, here you stood, nearly a year and a half later, near the entrance of Family Video.

Right in front of him was the woman he loved with every fiber of his being. You owned every part of him, but most importantly, his heart.

And in your arms, nestled on your hip was a baby girl.

A baby girl that bore a striking resemblance to him.

“Hi, Steve,” you whispered.

He honestly couldn’t find the words as he gaped at you. His braid had short-circuited at seeing you. His heart pounding with nerves and just because of you. It probably wasn’t the most manly thing to admit, but you made his heart flip like it was doing summersaults, gave him butterflies in his stomach.

Rendered him speechless too, apparently.

You looked even more beautiful than he remembered. He halfway wondered just what you’d looked like pregnant, if you glowed from within like everyone claimed pregnant women do.

Even from the distance of half a room, he could see you looked tired, but it didn’t take away from your beauty. There may have been circles under your eyes, but your eyes were still as pretty, always a hint of mischief in them. Even if now they looked a little wary, he saw the strength in them too.

Your teeth was sunk into your lower lip—something you tended to do unwittingly when you were nervous. He remembered well how they felt pressed against his and suddenly there was an ache in his chest, a deep need to to kiss you.

You were in casual lounge clothes, loose pants and a t-shirt, but it might as well been the fanciest dress because you looked amazing in his eyes.

It was when his eyes landed on the baby girl, that he truly felt the breath leave his lungs. She was as beautiful as her mother, with rosy cheeks and a carefree demeanor.

But she looked just like him.

She had his dark hair, his eyes, he didn’t even know how to explain other than she practically had his whole face.

A hard elbow to the ribs had him snapping out of his trance and grimacing at the same time. Who knew Robin’s elbow hurt so much?

“Hi,” he breathed, reverent, almost as if he spoke too loud you’d just drift away like dust on the wind, nothing but a pure figment of his imagination.

“I’m going to take my break,” Robin announced, officially breaking his spell.

“Just holler if you need me,” she said to him, before heading towards the back.

You walked closer to the counter, the baby in your arms babbling, chewing on the toy in her hands. She was taken in by the bright colors and lights everywhere and her eyes looked everywhere, her tiny mind taking it all in.

“I thought you moved back in with your parents,” Steve said, fidgeting with a pen that was laying nearby.

He forced himself to put it down and still his hands.

“I did. But I decided it was time to come back to Hawkins,” you said, shoulders straight, sure of yourself.

“After all,” you continued, “I thought you might want to meet your daughter.”

His daughter.

The words about brought him to his knees. Not from fear like they’d had that day so long ago, but just from pure enchantment. A part of him was in this little girl. This little girl who he’d help create.

She was perfect.

“She’s beautiful,” he smiled, watching her.

“Yeah, I think so too,” you smiled, trying to get her to turn to look at him.

“She looks so much like me.”

The awe in his voice was apparent, but he couldn’t help it.

“Yeah, I carried her for nine months only for her to come out looking just like you,” she teased lightly.

He chuckled, the lighthearted remark easing some of the tension and awkwardness between you two.

“Well there’s definitely no question that she’s mine, that’s for sure,” he said with a wry grin.

He was afraid you’d be insulted by his retort as he had asked when you’d told him you were pregnant, if the baby was his. But you just smiled at him and his heart soared, getting way ahead of all logical thought.

“Um,” he swallowed nervously, “How old is she?”

“Just turned nine months.”

You tapped on her tummy, tickling slightly, trying to get her to look at him.

“Can you say hi, Scarlett?”

“Her name is Scarlett?” he asked, smiling at her when she finally looked at him.

“Scarlett Rose.”

Again, his breath left him entirely as his gaze shot to yours. He found the confirmation there in your gaze, but he still had to ask.

“Scarlett Rose as in…”

He didn’t finish his thought, but you finished it for him.

“The red roses you’d send me for every anniversary, birthday and Christmas? Yeah, just like that.”

It was a small gesture he’d done early on in your relationship that had continued throughout it. That had been just a small physical thing, although proof of his love for you. But now, named after those romantic gestures was an actual product of yours and his love.

“I love it,” he smiled, “It’s perfect.”

You noticed him watching her and you couldn’t help but smile at how amazed he was by her.

“Would you like to hold her?”

He nodded emphatically.

“I’d love to.”

You handed Scarlett to him and he took her, a little awkwardly at first, but soon she settled into his arms, tiny hands busy playing with the name badge on his employee vest.

“Hi Scarlett,” his voice sounded hoarse, his throat clogged with emotion that he was trying to keep at bay, “I’m your daddy.”

She was still focused on the name tag, babbling away and his eyes actually teared up as he rubbed a hand over her back, kissing her head. He looked up at you and saw you watching them, a slight smile on her face.

“Y/N, I—”

You held up a hand.

“You don’t have to say anything. I know you didn’t want to be part of her life. But I didn’t want to keep her from you. I just thought you should meet her.”

There was so much he needed to say, that he wanted to say. Of course, the most random, most idiotic thing was what chose to fly out of his mouth.

“Is there another daddy in her life?”

He wanted to hit himself. Of all things, he had to say that?

Your brows creased and he rushed ahead to explain himself before he could piss you off.

“I just mean I told you that day to find another father for her and I know I gave you permission to but I really regret that now because I don’t want any other guy being a father to her and you have every right if you wanted to da-”

“No.”

Your simple response cut off his incoherent babbling.

“No?”

“Believe it or not Steve, but I wasn’t interested in dating. I just wanted to focus on my-” you paused, realizing your mistake, “Our little girl.”

Scarlett was trying to pull the fabric of his Family Video vest into her mouth and he stopped her.

“No, no, honey. That’s not to chew on.”

“Here, give her this.”

You reached in your bag, pulling out a teething ring toy, handing it to Steve. His fingers brushed yours when he took it and you felt the metaphorical spark as his touch, your eyes flying up to his. He watched you with such intensity, you could feel your heart flipping like a dolphin in your chest.

“She’s teething pretty badly right now,” you said, trying to pull yourself together.

“Here you go, sweetheart,” he murmured softly to Scarlett, placing it in her hands and watching as she brought it to her mouth to chew on.

You watched, father and daughter finally having met, the hole in your heart that he’d left behind slowly, millimeter by millimeter, begin to heal.

“Y/N,” he looked back towards you, “I’m so sorry for what I did.”

You nodded.

“Apology accepted.”

“I’m not even through apologizing,” he laughed, although you could hear the pain behind it, “I never should’ve left you or Scarlett. I was scared. I was a jackass and a coward. Call me whatever you want, I deserve it.”

“I’m not going to call you anything, Steve.”

“Still, I deserve to be called everything in the book,” he sighed, looking as worn and broken as you felt, “I actually went to find you. A month after that night.”

“A little late by then, don’t you think?”

He winced at your comment.

“That’s fair. But yeah, I found out you’d moved home. So I want to tell you now what I wanted to tell you then.”

You stopped him.

“I appreciate it, Steve. But you don’t have to. I didn’t come here for us, I can here so you could meet your daughter,” you said, “I wanted to let you know that you can see her, spend time with her, whatever, anytime you want. As far as I’m concerned, we’re just co-parents.”

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a stab of pain at that last statement.

“But, I wanted to make it right, Y/N and apologize.”

“Like I said, the apology is accepted. But you’re not forgiven. You broke my heart, Steve. We’re broken. If you think I came to fall back into your arms after you left me in a pile of shattered pieces, then you’re sorely mistaken.”

He sighed, the weight of the world feeling like it was crushing his chest at your words. But really, could he blame you? He wouldn’t trust him either.

Scarlett babbled to him and he smiled at her, albeit he felt like doing anything but smiling. Crying, screaming, begging, punching a wall, maybe.

But he had no one to blame but himself.

“Do you mind watching her real quick? I really have to hit the bathroom,” you said.

“No, we’re fine. Go ahead. It’s down the hall to the right.”

Scarlett saw her mommy leaving the room and started to fuss.

“It’s okay baby, mommy will be right back,” she promised.

“Ma ma,” Scarlett whined, pathetically.

He knew exactly how she felt.

“Hey, want to see some really cool lights?” he asked her, jostling her gently in his arms, walking to the big Family Video sign.

It was a neon red orange that glowed brightly and he thought it would distract her long enough to keep her from crying. She babbled, reaching out towards it, her tiny face illuminated by the neon light.

“I could tell you lots of stories about mommy,” he spoke softly to her.

Scarlett looked up at him as if intrigued by the sound of his voice.

“Most importantly though, I can tell you that I made the biggest mistake ever when I let her go.”

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